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4 


There  was  one  plant  which  she  admired  very  much.— p.  53 


WINTER  EVENING  AND  SUMMER  DAY 
L  IB  K  A  E  Y: 


BLANCHE  AND  HER  FRIENDS, 


BT 


HETTY   HOXYOKE. 


BOSTON: 

1866. 


EDUC- 

.  PSYCH. 
ilBRARY 


GIFT 


4^ 


CONTENTS.  ffi.*fJ^. 


OHAPTEB  PA  OB 

I.  — THE  OAK  TREE 6 

n.  — THE   STRANGER 8 

in.  — 'LEEDY'S  STORY 14 

IV.  — BLANCHE'S  STORY 19 

v.  — 'LEEDY'S  DREAM.             23 

VL— THE  FAIRIES 27 

VII.  — THE  FAIRIES'  RIDE .32 

VIII.  — WHAT  THE  FAIRIES  BROUGHT  HOME.      .    .  36 

IX.  — AUNT  DORA .40 

X.  — BLANCHIE'S  GARDEN .45 

XL  — BLANCHE  IN  THE  GREENHOUSE 62 

XIL  — OLD  ELI 57 

XIIL  — BLANCHE  AND  THE  OLD  MAN 62 

XIV.  — THE  RAINY   DAY 66 

XV. —BLANCHE   AT  WORK 71 

XVL  — ELI'S  PARTY 76 

XVII.  — THE  OLD  MAN'S   STORY 83 

XVIIL  — THE  GHOST  THAT  TURNEl?  THE  COFFEE 

MILL 93 

(3) 


471 


4  CONTENTS. 


XIX.  — THE  SILK  WORMS 102 

XX.  — THE  LITTLE  COFFIN-MAKERS 110 

XXI.  — BLANCHIE'S  ACCIDENT 117 

XXII.  —  BLANCHE'S   PRESENTS 124 

XXIII.— WATCHING  THE  BIRDS 129 

XXIV.  — THE  COCOONERY 135 

XXV.  — THE  LAST  VISIT  TO  ELI 144 

XXVL— THE  FIRST  VISIT  TO  HENRY 151 

XXVII.— THE  NEW  MINISTER 163 


C|t  Surprise 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE    OAK    TREE. 


NE  bright,  still  sum-' 
mer  day,  a  group  of 
children  were  playing 
about  the  steps  of  a 
village  church.  Per- 
haps, children,  it  was 
the  very  village  where 
you  live ;  but  no  mat- 
^ter  about  that:  all 
young  people  love  to 
play ;  and  these  had  spent  the  whole 
afternoon   together,   flying    from   one 

1#  (5) 


6  THE    OAK    TREE. 

game  to  another,  and  making  all  the 
air  musical  with  merry  laughs. 

The  robins  thought  this  laughter 
was  the  children's  song  to  them  ;  for 
robins  don't  know  but  what  children 
were  created  on  purpose  to  make  the 
world  look  lively  for  their  little  bird- 
ships,  as  they  sit  dreaming  in  their 
shady  nests. 

So  the  robins  twittered  back  songs 
as  much  like  the  children's  as  they 
could  make  them ;  and  the  tall  pine 
trees  in  the  churchyard  waved  and 
waved  against  the  sky  like  paint 
brushes,  soaking  up  the  sunshine;  and 
passing  it  down  to  the  children,  made 
their  faces  glow  again,  and  their  hearts 
leap  delightedly. 

Beside  the  church  stood  an  oak  tree 
that    spread    her    branches    far    and 


THE    OAK    TREE.  7 

wide ;  and  such  ancient,  knotted,  mos- 
sy branches  perhaps  you  never  saw: 
they  had  grown  so  brittle  with  age, 
that  the  wind  had  broken  them  in 
places;  and  the  lightning  had  made 
great  scars  along  the  trunk. 

But  the  tree  came  out  new  every 
spring,  with  a  garment  of  beautiful, 
fresh,  green  leaves,  that  covered  up  all 
her  losses,  and  made  a  shelter  for 
many  little  birds  who  built  their  nests, 
hatched  their  young,  dozed,  sang, 
made  dainty  meals  from  bugs  and  flies, 
and  altogether  had  splendid  times,  hid- 
den away  there  in  the  shade. 


CHAPTER  n. 


THE    STRANGER. 


NDER  this  fine  old 
tree  the  children 
seated  themselves 
I  to  rest  a  while,  and 
were  beginning  to 
tell  each  other 
stories,  when  they 
espied  a  stranger 
watching  them  from 
the  church  steps.  It  was  a  young  man 
who  seemed  to  be  walking  for  pleas- 
ure ;  and  who,  when  he  found  that  the 
children  had  observed  his  presence, 
went  towards  them,  and  sat  down  in 
the  grass:  in  such  an  easy  way,  and 
with  such  a  pleasant,  smiling  face,  the 

(8) 


THE    STRANGER.  V 

young  folks  did  not  feel  afraid  of  him 
in  the. least. 

He  asked  them  to  go  on  with  their 
stories,  and  not  mind  his  presence ;  but 
though  not  exactly  afraid,  they  were  a 
little  shy  at  first,  and  only  looked  at 
each  other  and  at  him,  without  speak- 
ing a  word. 

"  At  least  you'll  tell  me  your  name, 
and  what  is  in  that  basket  on  your 
arm,"  he  said  to  little  Blanche  Ellis, 
who  was  looking  up  into  his  face. 

"  Blanchie,"  she  answered.  "  and 
that  is  Elise,  my  sister,  and  the  rest 
are  Minnie,  and  Libby,  and  Alice." 

"  And  what's  in  your  basket  ?  " 

"  The  rest  have  flowers ;  but  I 
picked  up  these  pretty  acorns  —  look ! 
how  many ! "  and  she  opened  the 
cover. 


10  THE    STRAIN  UEK. 

"  Why,  that  is  just  what  I  came  in 
search  of,"  said  the  stranger.  "I 
thought  it  would  be  pleasant  to  have 
such  a  noble  tree  as  this,  growing  near 
the  house  in  which  I  live ;  and  these 
acorns,  you  know,  will  change  into 
oaks  if  we  wait  long  enough/' 

"But  won't  you  have  to  wait  a 
long,  long  while  ] "  asked  Blanche. 
''  When  I  was  born,  my  father  planted 
an  acorn,  and  it's  a  little  bit  of  a  slim 
tree,  not  much  taller  than  I  am  now." 

"  I  must  be  patient,  then,  as  my 
father  was,  when  he  planted  the  seed 
from  which  the  very  oak  above  us 
grew:  he  went  to  heaven  long  ago, 
and  his  body  lies  under  that  gray 
stone,  with  the  weeping  willow  over 
it ;    but    his    son   and   the   children, 


THE    STRANGER.  11 

whom  he  used  to  love  so  well,  enjoy' 
and  bless  him  for  the  tree." 

Elise  had  run  across  to  the  willow 
tree,  and  came  back  saying,  "  The 
name  on  the  stone  is  Harris :  I  could 
hardly  read,  it  was  so  filled  up  with 
moss." 

"  Then  we  know  your  name  !  "  ex- 
claimed Blanche ;  "  and  I'm  so  glad 
you  want  acorns,  for  you  shall  have 
mine :  see !  here  are  more ;  "  and  she 
began  emptying  her  pocket  into  the 
stranger's  hand. 

"  Thank  you,  dear ;  but  I  only  want 
one  or  two,  and  I  shall  christen  my 
tree  '  Blanche  ; '  and  when  I  get  to  be 
an  old,  white-haired  grandfather,  with 
children  playing  about  me,  I  shall 
point  to  the  monstrous  knotted  limbs, 
and  the  great  iron-strong  trunk,  and 


12  THE    STRANGER. 

the  thousand«v  of  shining  leaves,  and 
tell  how  they  were  all  folded  up  with 
a  dozen  more  like  them,  in  a  little 
girl's  pocket,  once.  These  acorns 
grew  last  year ;  but  I  think  they  will 
take  root." 

"  Won't  that  be  a  nice  story  1  Do 
you  suppose  they'll  believe  it  1 "  asked 
Blanche,  clapping  her  hands  with  de- 
light. ''  There's  my  sister  'Leedy  can 
tell  beautiful  stories  when  we  are 
alone  together;,  but  none  so  funny  as 
yours :  she  was  right  in  the  midst  of 
one  when  you  came." 

"  Come,  then,  'Leedy,"  said  the 
stranger,  "  will  you  not  be  generous 
to  me  like  Blanche  ]  Where  did  you 
find  those  little  flowers'?  —  what  are 
they  1  —  so  delicate  and  lovely  !  " 

"  Anemones,   the  very   last   of  the 


THE    STRANGER. 


13 


spring,"  said  Elise,  unfastening  from 

her  bosom  and  timidly  handing  them 

to  the  new  comer. 

"  'Leedy  always  finds  the  prettiest 

flowers,"    whispered    Blanche,    "  and 

tells  the  prettiest  stories :  don't  you 

like    her  1      I    do,"    she    rattled    on. 

''  Come  'Leedy,  finish  about  the  oak 

tree." 

2 


CHAPTER  in. 
'leedy's  story. 

WAS  only  saying," 
^  began  Elise,  "  that 
those  acorns  were  just 
like  the  oak  tree's 
children,  clinging  on 
every  stem,  like  great 
babies  afraid  to  leave 
their  mother ;  but 
I  suppose  the  tree 
thinks  they  are  the 
most  obedient  children  in  the  world, 
and  that  our  fathers  and  mothers  are 
very  careless  to  let  us  run  off  here 
alone." 

"  How  would  you  like  to  have  such 
an  anxious  mother,  Blanche  ? "  asked 

(14) 


'leedy's  story.  15 

the  stranger.  "  I  dare  say  the  old  tree 
thinks  that,  after  all,  it  is  not  of  so 
much  importance  what  becomes  of 
you ;  for  all  mothers  think  their  chil- 
dren more  wonderful  than  any  others ; 
and  these  acorns  she  scatters  about 
the  churchyard  might  spring  into 
noble  trees;  and  after  the  church  here 
has  crumbled  to  dust,  and  her  own 
trunk  fallen,  she  thinks  how  grandly 
they  will  stand  up  in  the  daylight  — 
her  glorious  children  !  " 

"  I  mean  to  put  back  my  acorns ! " 
exclaimed  Blanche.  "  I  didn't  know 
it  would  disappoint  any  body  if  I  dug 
out  their  meat  and  made  them  into 
cups  and  saucers  for  my  doll." 

"  The  poor  tree  is  disappointed 
every  year,"  said  the  gentleman ; 
"for   eighty   summers   she    has   built 


16  'leedy's  story. 

up  the  self-same  hopes,  and  eighty 
autumns  has  planted  her  children  all 
about  her;  and,  thinking  them  safe, 
has  prepared  to  take  her  winter  nap ; 
but  a  drove  of  pigs  have  come  in  and 
eaten  them,  or  some  old  starved 
donkey  has  munched  them  with  his 
broken  teeth,  or  else  they  have  rotted 
on  the  ground." 

Just  then,  there  came  up  a  wind 
which  stirred  the  oak  till  she  waved 
all  her  boughs,  and  rattled  her  leaves 
overhead ;  and  Blanche  thought  it 
seemed  as  though  she  were  begging 
them  to  leave  her  children  alone. 

"  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  that 
were  exactly  what  she  is  trying  to 
say,"  answered  Henry,  —  for  that  was 
the  gentleman's  name ;  "  but  I  shall 
take  a  great  deal  better  care  of  them 


'leedy's  story.  17 

than  she  knows  how  —  plant,  and 
water,  and  fence  the  young  trees 
round*;  so  that,  of  all  the  children 
she  watched  so  tenderly,  perhaps  the 
only  ones  that  come  to  any  good,  will 
be  these  I  am  taking  from  her. 

"  You  must  remember,  Blanche,  that 
when  your  pleasures,  and  things  you 
value  very  much,  are  taken  away,  and 
it  seems  hard  to  give  them  up,  they 
are  only  taken  for  a  little  while ;  and 
you  may  find  them  again,  some  day, 
changed  from  poor  little  seeds  into 
great  spreading  trees,  that  will  shelter 
you  from  the  sun." 

"  Is  that  the  end  of  your  story  ] " 
asked  Blanche.  "  The  last  of  it 
sounded  just  like  what  the  minister 
says  at  church ;  only  I  know  what  you 
are  talking  about,  and  I  never  know 
2* 


18  'leedy's  story. 

any  thing  except  the  words,  when  he 
is  preaching.  But  I  have  thought  of 
a  beautiful  story,  if  you  want  to  hear 
it,  about  burying  ray  bantam  last 
summer:  don't  you  remember  it, 
'LeedyT' 

"Yes  indeed!  but  Henry  does  not 
want  to  hear  about  such  things :  he 
would  only  laugh  at  us,  as  brother 
Frank  did." 

"I  know  that  Henry  will  not  laugh 
at  us,"  said  the  little  girl.  "  Would 
you,  after  'Leedy  gave  you  all  her 
flowers,  and  I  gave  those  acorns  that 
will  make  such  great  trees  \  " 

*'  Not  for  the  world ;  and  I  long  to 
knew  about  your  pet." 


CHAPTER.  IV. 


BLANCHES    STORY. 


'  ELL,  the  bantam 
died;  and  she  was 
a  real  beauty — white 
as  snow ;  and  she 
\  had  the  queerest  long, 
1  white  pantalets,  all 
^  made  of  feathers  ; 
and  was  so  tame  that 
'Leedy  and  I  could 
catch  her  any  time. 
And  she  would  eat  corn  or  crumbs  out 
of  our  hand:  sometimes  she  picked 
too  hard ;  I  suppose  she  didn't  mean 
to,  but  it  hurt  me  so  that  I  would 
drop  all  the  corn  and  run  away. 

"There  was  a  rooster,  too,  and  he 

(19) 


20  BLANCHE*S    STORY. 

was  just  like  her,  only  taller,  and  not 
quite  so  cunning ;  he  has  a  comb  on 
his  head  and  all  round  his  neck,  red 
as  my  coral  beads ;  he  is  alive  now, 
and  struts  about  the  yard,  but  I  think 
he  misses  Banty,  she  was  such  a  dear 
little  thing. 

"  One  morning  I  went  out  to  the 
door  with  some  crumbs  for  her.  I 
called  and  called,  but  she  didn't  come : 
so  I  went  into  the  hen  house,  and 
there  she  was,  dead  as  she  could 
be,  with  her  head  all  on  one  side ! 
Wasn't  it  too  bad  ? 

"  We  felt  so  sorry,  that  our  man, 
John,  said  he  would  bury  her  and  put 
a  stone  over  the  grave.  So  we  made 
ready  for  the  funeral. 

"  We  went  to  school  in  the  morning, 
and  told  Minnie,  and  Libby,  and  Alice 


Blanche's  story.  21 

about  it ;  they  knew  Banty  —  so  they 
wanted  to  come ;  and  that  afternoon 
we  were  so  busy  dressing  up  our  dolls 
in  mourning  !  for  we  thought  some- 
body ought  to  wear  black. 

"  Then  we  formed  a  procession : 
first,  John  went  with  his  spade,  and 
Banty  under  his  arm ;  then  Elise 
carried  the  rooster,  with  a  black  veil 
over  his  face  ;  Minnie  held  our  Maltese 
kitten,  with  a  long,  black  scarf 
around  her  neck ;  and  then  Alice 
came  with  Spy  —  that's  the  puppy ;  and 
I  held  a  dove  and  a  rabbit ;  every  one 
with  something  black  over  it ;  but  I'll 
tell  you  the  best  of  all :  our  great 
Newfoundland  dog,  that's  black  all 
over,  followed  on  of  his  own  accord; 
and  it  seemed  just  as  if  he  was  in 
mourning  naturally. 


22  BLANCHES    STORY. 

"  Then  John  dug  the  grave,  and 
Alice  tolled  the  great  dinner  bell ; 
and  when  I  lifted  the  rooster's  veil, 
so  that  he  could  look  at  poor  Banty 
once  more,  don't  you  think  he  crowed, 
standing  in  'Leedy's  hand  !  " 


"  Now,  'Leedy,"  said  Alice,  when 
Blanche  had  finished  her  story,  "  you 
must  tell  us  that  dream  you  had  about 
fairies  the  other  day ;  "  and  Henry  said, 
"  If  it  is  half  as  interesting  as  what 
Blanche  has  told,  I  should  like  to 
hear  it."     So  Elise  began. 


CHAPTER  V. 
'leedy's  dream. 

LANCHIE     and     I 

were  walking  in  the 
wood  back  of  aunt 
Dora's  house.  It's  a 
beautiful  place,  full 
of  great  trees,  and 
queer  berries,  and  all 
kinds  of  bushes  and 
leaves;  there  are  places 
where  the  moss  is  so 
soft,  and  green,  and  thick,  it  is  just 
like  a  bed ;  and  others  where  the 
grass  grows  long  and  pale,  because  it 
is  always  in  the  shade,  and  the  blades 
are  very  slender  and  delicate. 

"  We  came  to  one   of  these  grassy 

(23) 


24  'leedy's  dream. 

spots,  that  had  large  pine  trees  stand- 
ing close  around  it,  and  only  an  open- 
ing like  a  window  at  the  top,  to  let  the 
blue  sky  look  in.  The  fresh  grass  ancj 
the  pines,  that  kept  stirring  all  the 
time,  had  such  a  pleasant  smell,  and 
made  a  sound  like  singing  —  only  the 
little  birds  in  the  boughs  sang  louder 
and  more  clearly;  you  should  have 
heard  them  tweet,  and  twitter,  and 
trill:  sometimes  Blanchie  can  sing 
ever  so  much  like  them. 

"  We  had  been  picking  partridge  ber- 
ries, —  you  know  they  are  bright  red, 
like  coral  beads,  —  and  I  strung  them 
into  a  necklace  and  bracelets  for 
Blanche,  and  made  her  a  wreath  out 
of  wild  honeysuckle  flowers ;  and  she 
made  me  the   prettiest   one    out    of 


'leedy's  dream.  25 

nothing  but  grass.  Aunt  Dora  said 
it  was  a  beauty. 

"  But  Blanchie  was  tired ;  and  while 
I  was  fastening  on  her  wreath,  she  fell 
asleep  by  my  side.  I  laid  her  softly 
on  the  grass ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  the 
sky,  away  up  there  abo^e  the  tall 
pines,  was  watching  over  her ;  and  as 
if  the  pines  were  fanning  her  warm 
face,  and  singing  songs  to  her  so  sweet 
and  low,  that  only  she  could  hear 
them  in  her  dreams. 

"A  little  brown  sparrow  hopped 
down  out  of  her  nest  and  looked  at 
us ;  first  with  one  eye,  and  then  the 
other  :  such  little,  round,  bright  eyes  ! 
and  then  she  snapped  at  a  fly,  and 
flew  away  with  it  in  her  mouth. 

"  I  suppose  I  fell  asleep  ;  for  I  leaned 
back  in  the  grass  to  see  if  I  could  find 
3 


26 


LEEDYS    DREAM. 


the  sparrow  again,  up  in  the  pine 
boughs.  The  grass  felt  so  cool  to  my 
hot  cheeks,  that  I  laid  them  close  to 
it;  and  the  first  thing  I  knew,  it 
seemed  as  if  there  were  fairies  all 
around  me. 


CHAPTER  VT. 


THE    FAIRIES. 


HEY  crept  up  out 
of  the  grass;  they 
hopped  from  the  pine 

i trees,  just  as  the  spar- 
row had  done;  they 
came  sliding  down  on 
the  sunbeams,  some- 
times whirling  over 
and  over  as  they  fell, 
but  always  alighting 
safely.  Often  they  would  rest  on  the 
tip  of  a  grass  blade,  and  hang  there 
lightly  as  snow  flakes,  and  swing. 

The  little  creatures  were  all  dressed 
up  in  flowers ;  not  made  into  wreaths, 


(27) 


28  THE    FAIRIES. 

as  we  wear  them,  but  sewed  into  real 
gowns  and  aprons. 

"  The  tallest  fairy  looked  like  a  little 
queen  ;  her  skirt  was  made  of  a  bright 
blue  gentian,  the  long  fringe  trailing 
on  the  ground  ;  and  her  waist  was  of 
buttercup  petals,  smooth  as  satin  ; 
her  collar  was  part  of  a  white  jasmine 
blossom ;  and  her  handkerchief  was 
a  rose  leaf. 

"  Around  the  queen  were  six  soldiers 
dressed  in  cardinal  flowers,  with  great 
helmets  of  monkshood,  and  quivers 
full  of  pine  leaves  for  arrows,  and 
hatchets  made  of  beetles'  legs,  all 
sharpened  like  a  saw. 

"  Some  of  the  other  fairies  wore  lily 
leaves  for  skirts,  and  mantles  of 
violet ;  some  had  tippets  made  from 
the  yellow  fur  of  a  bee ;  one  had  a 


THE    FAIRIES.  29 

robe  of  pink  rose  leaves  quilted  to- 
gether, and  bordered  with  delicate 
green  moss. 

"  One  wore  leaves  of  a  japonica, 
that  stood  out  like  brocade,  and  were 
spangled  all  over  with  gold  and  pur- 
ple from  a  butterfly's  wing ;  and  she 
wore  a  jaunty  cap  of  Chinese  prim- 
rose, and  little  heath  bells  in  her  ears. 

"  The  gentlemen  fairies  wore  darker 
flowers ;  all  except  a  few,  who  were 
real  dandies,  and  had  cloaks  of  magno- 
lia or  tulip  leaves,  and  vests  of  blue  for- 
get-me-not, or  of  nasturtion  or  poppy. 

"  The  soberer  ones  wore  dark-red 
piony  leaves,  or  white  and  lead-colored 
hollyhocks ;  their  swords  were  made 
of  grass  blades,  so  heavy  and  stiff*  they 
almost  weighed  the  little  things  down. 

"  You  would  not  wonder  that  there 
3* 


30  THE    FAIRIES. 

are  so  many  spider  webs  on  a  summer 
morning,  if  you  could  see  how  many 
the  fairies  need ;  how  useful  they  are 
—  I  mean  they  seemed  to  be  in  my 
dream. 

"  They  used  them,  in  different  sizes, 
for  skip  ropes,  and  swings,  and  to 
fasten  their  tents,  and  harness  their 
horses,  and  sew  their  delicate  flower- 
dresses  together. 

"  I  could  not  imagine  what  they  were 
about,  when  they  all  began  treading 
the  grass  down  in  a  little  circle,  and 
only  left  standing  one  tall,  stout  straw ; 
but  soon  tney  unrolled  a  beautiful 
great  spider  web,  and  taking  it  by  the 
edges,  flew  up  into  the  air  to  shake  it 
smooth ;  then  stretched  it  over  the 
straw  into  a  tent,  which  they  tied 
tight  on  every  side  to  grass  roots. 


THE    FAIRIES.  31 

"  They  sprinkled  the  floor  with  moss, 
and  made  beds  of  velvet  rose  leaves, 
and  tied  together  violets  for  pillows, 
and  hung  up  some  lily-of-the-valley 
bells  for  the  little  women  to  ring  if 
they  wanted  help  ;  then  the  gentlemen 
fairies  rode  away  and  left  them  to 
their  nap ;  only  one  or  two  servants 
staid  at  the  door,  with  great  fans 
made  of  butterfly  wings,  to  drive  off 
bugs  and  flies." 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE     FAIRIES     RIDK 


UCH  horses  as  the 
fairy  men  had !  some 
were  flies,  and  some 
were  beetles ;  one 
hopped  off  on  a  tiny- 
toad,  and  one  scram- 
bled up  on  the  back 
of  a  bird,  and  clung 
to  her  neck  while 
she  flew  out  of  sight, 
far  up  above  the  pines.  Some  of  them 
had  chosen  grasshoppers ;  but  they 
jolted  their  riders  well  with  their  long, 
stiff  legs  and  funny  hops.  One  went 
gliding  off  on  the  back  of  a  little 
striped  snake ;  and  one  or  two  sat  on 

(32) 


Such  horses  as  the  fairy  men  had.— p.  32 


THE   fairies'  ride.  33 

a  broad,  green  lily  leaf,  and  floated  in 
the  brook. 

"  A  few  sleepy  ones  lagged  behind ; 
some  of  these  rolled  themselves  in 
cool  plantain  leaves,  and  soon  began 
to  snore ;  some  climbed  into  empty 
birds'  nests,  and  lay  there  rocking  in 
the  breeze,  the  leaves  all  fluttering 
round  them,  and  the  mosquitos  blow- 
ing their  trumpets,  but  not  biting,  for 
I  suppose  they  dont  like  the  taste  of 
fairy  flesh;  and  some,  dancing  about 
till  they  were  wide  awake,  perched 
themselves  on  the  rail  fence  that 
runs  through  the  wood,  and  began  to 
fasten  buttons  on  their  curious  little 
vests,  and  darn  up  rents  in  their  velvet 
cloaks. 

"  Pretty  soon  I  heard  a  great  tram- 
pling over  the  grass,  and  back  the  riders 


34  THE    fairies'    ride.  '; 

came,  in  the  greatest  glee,  singing  and 
laughing,  and  their  cheeks  as  red  as 
cherries  in  the  sun. 

"  They  all  had  wreaths  of  grass  on 
their  heads,  such  as  Blanchie  had  made 
for  me,  only  their  heads  were  so  small 
that  the  wreaths  looked  like  parasols, 
and  made  the  prettiest  little  shadows 
dance  round  them  on  the  grass." 

"But  how  can  you  remember  all 
these  little  things,  Elise '?  "  interrupted 
Henry ;  "  and  how  came  you  to  notice 
sunbeams  and  shadows,  and  to  think 
that  the  sky  was  looking  down  to  see 
Blanche  r' 

"  O,  aunt  Dora  walks  with  us  very 
often,  and  she  points  out  ever  so  many 
things  I  never  noticed  before,  and  tells 
us  we  must  always  be  looking  to  find 
what   is    beautiful   and    curious.     No 


THE    fairies'  ride.  35 

matter  how  many  questions  we  ask, 
she  is  never  tired  of  answering  them  ; 
but  my  story  is  almost  finished ;  may 
I  go  on  r' 

"  O,  yes ;  I  am  delighted  with  it," 
said  Henry ;  "  and  we  needn't  ask 
Blanche,  for  here  she  sits,  with  her 
eyes  wide  open,  waiting  to  hear  about 
the  fairy  people." 

Blanche  did  not  answer  a  word,  but 
kept  her  eyes  fixed  on  Elise,  who 
proceeded. 


^^M 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


WHAT    THE    FAIRIES    BROUGHT    HOME. 


EHIND  every  one 
of  the  fairy  riders 
was  a  saddle  bag 
[made  of  stout  leaves, 
I  and  filled  with  what- 
ever he  had  discovered 
in  the  wood. 

"  One  had  his  bag 
crowded  with  mosqui- 
tos;  he  had  stunned 
them  with  a  blow  of  his  beetle  hatch- 
et, and  crumpled  them,  legs,  and  wings, 
and  all  together.  As  he  pulled  them 
out,  the  fairy  ladies  exclaimed  how  fat 
they  were,  and  told  how  they  would 
boil  them  into  a  delicious  soup. 


WHAT  THEY  BROUGHT  HOME.    37 

"  One  had,  he  said,  some  beautiful 
emeralds,  which  he  had  shaken  oiF 
from  a  rose  leaf;  but  when  he  came  to 
pour  them  out  upon  a  mushroom  that 
stood  before  the  tent,  the  silly  fellow 
found  they  w^ere  only  drops  of  dew, 
which  had  looked  green  because  they 
rested  on  the  leaf.  The  fairies  had  a 
good  laugh  over  his  mistake. 

"  One  had  brought  some  butterfly 
down,  crimson,  purple,  bright  brown, 
and  silver  and  gold.  This,  he  said,  he 
would  weave  into  a  furry  cape  for  the 
fairy  he  loved  best.  One  had  nipped 
off  the  honeyed  ends  of  some  flower 
tubes ;  one  had  brought  drops  of  fra- 
grant pitch  from  the  pines ;  one  had 
gathered  the  pollen  out  of  roses  and 
lilies,  for  spice ;  one  had  brought  some 
wintergreen  berries;  and  the  queer 
4 


38       WHAT   THEY   BROUGHT    HOME. 

little  fellow  who  rode  on  a  toad,  had 
sawed  off  the  stem  of  a  pitcher-plant 
that  was  full  of  dew,  and  tried  to 
bring  it  home  ;  but  the  toad,  in  scram- 
bling through  the  grass,  had  spilled  al- 
most every  drop;  and  besides,  had 
bruised  the  fairy's  mantle,  scratched 
his  face,  and  almost  shaken  him  off. 

"While  they  were  talking,  and  show- 
ing their  treasures,  one  of  the  fairy 
girls  —  a  lovely  creature  in  a  violet- 
colored  robe  —  had  picked  a  buttercup, 
stitched  the  leaves  nicely  together,  and 
torn  out  the  stamens  ;  so  it  looked  like 
a  beautiful  golden  bowl. 

"  She  filled  this  with  dew  almost  to 
the  brim,  cooled  it  with  some  flakes 
of  snow  that  one  of  the  fairies  had 
found  in  a  cave,  and  sweetened  it  with 
honey ;  for  one  of  them  had  brought 


WHAT  THEY  BROUGHT  HOME.    39 

home  the  bag  of  a  bee ;  then  she 
sprinkled  in  a  little  rose  dust  to  flavor 
it,  and  stirred  it  with  the  spicy,  hon- 
eyed pistil  of  an  orange  blosom. 

"  The  bowl  was  passed  around,  and 
all  the  fairies  drank.  Just  as  one  of 
the  little  men  was  bringing  it  to  me,  I 
awoke  and  found  myself  lying  all 
alone  with  Blanchie  in  the  wood ;  her 
honeysuckle  wreath  had  not  faded, 
only  on  one  side  the  flowers  were 
crushed,  where  she  had  slept  on  them ; 
we  picked  up  our  berries  and  flowers, 
and  I  hurried  home  to  tell  aunt  Dora 
my  dream." 


CHAPTER  IX. 


AUNT    DORA. 


UT  who  is  tlds  aunt 
Dora  you  talk  so  much 
about  ]  "  asked  Henry. 
"O,  I  can  tell," 
exclaimed  Blanch ; 
"she  is  mother's  sis- 
ter ;  she  is  real  kind, 
and  beautiful,  too,  and 
she  tells  the  nicest 
stories,  funny  as  they 
can  be;  sometimes  they  make  you 
laugh,  and  sometimes  cry." 

"  Yes,  we  think  every  thing  of  aunt 
Dora,"  said  Elise ;  "  and  I  knew  one 
thing,  I  am  sorry  enough  that  she  is 
going  to  be  married  this  summer." 

(40) 


AUNT    DORA. 


41 


"  Why,  don't  you  like  the  gentleman 
she  has  chosen  ] "  asked  Henry,  sud- 
denly. 

"  I  don't  know  him ;  and  he  will  not 
care  for  us,  nothing  but  little  girls ; 
for  he  is  a  minister,  the  new  minister 
who  is  going  to  preach  in  this  very 
church.  I  know  that  when  aunt  Dora 
is  with  him,  we  shall  feel  afraid,  and 
perhaps  he  will  send  us  away." 

"  But  some  ministers  are  very  fond 
of  children,  and  are  always  glad  to 
have  them  near,"  said  Henry.  "  I 
would  not  feel  troubled  until  I  had 
seen  this  new  uncle,  if  I  were  you. 
And  now,  Blanchie,  you  must  give  me 
a  kiss,  for  I  am  going  home." 

"  O,  I'll  give  you  twenty,"  said 
Blanche ;  "  but  see,  I  have  made  you 
a  wreath  of  grass,  just  like  the  one 
4* 


42  AUNT    DORA. 

'Leedy  wore  in  the  wood ;  let  me  put 
it  on  your  head,  and  perhaps  it'll  make 
you  have  fairy  dreams." 

"•  Why,  how  funny  a  man  would 
look  in  a  wreath ! "  laughed  Elise ; 
but  Henry  stooped  while  the  little  girl 
fastened  her  wreath  about  his  brown, 
curly  hair,  and  whispered  to  him,  "  I 
love  you  better  than  any  one  else  in 
the  world,  except  aunt  Dora,  and 
mother,  and  father,  and  'Leedy." 

Henry  picked  up  his  straw  hat,  but 
did  not  put  it  on  until  he  was  out  of 
sight ;  he  kept  looking  back  and  bow- 
ing to  Blanchie,  and  the  last  she  saw 
of  him,  the  wind  was  blowing  his  hair 
away  from  the  high,  white  forehead, 
and  tangling  it  in  among  the  grass,  as 
he  disappeared. 

Elise  and  Blanche  went  home,  talk- 


AUNT    DORA.  43 

iiig  all  the  way  about  their  new  ac- 
quaintance, and  w^ondering  if  he  had 
come  to  live  in  the  village,  and  if 
they  should  ever  meet  him  when  they 
went  to  walk. 

Blanche  said  she  should  look  into 
the  churchyard  the  very  next  morn- 
ing, on  her  way  to  school ;  but  Elise 
told  her  that  they  must  take  care  and 
not  be  troublesome,  as  he  might  not 
always  feel  like  talking  with  them. 

But  Blanchie  seemed  to  think  that 
the  churchyard  was  the  stranger's 
home,  and  to  feel  as  sure  of  finding 
him  there,  as  of  finding  the  buttercups 
and  dandelions,  and  the  old  oak  tree. 

All  that  afternoon  she  watched  the 
sky,  and  wondered  if  the  next  day 
would  be  pleasant.  Then  she  would 
run  to  the  garden,  and  look  over  and 


44  AUNT    DORA. 

over  again  at  her  flowers,  to  see  if  the 
buds  would  be  open  by  another  day ; 
for  she  meant  to  gather  a  beautiful 
bunch,  and  give  them — to  whom  do 
you  suppose  '? 


CHAPTER  X. 


BLANCHIE  S    GARDEN. 


HE  last  visit  aunt 
Dora  made,  she  had 
persuaded  Mrs.  Ellis 
to  give  her  c-hildren 
a  piece  of  ground  in 
her  garden,  and  seeds 
and  plants,  and  to  let 
%  them  take  care  of 
^  it  themselves,  and 
gather  flowers  when- 
ever they  chose. 
In  the  spring  the  gardener  would  dig 
and  rake  it  for  them,  and  he  taught 
them  how  to  plant  seeds ;  and  how  to 
tell  which  were  weeds  and  which 
flowers,    after    they   came   up.      Elise 

(45) 


46  blanchie's  garden. 

learned  very  fast,  but  Blanche  was  apt 
to  pull  up  her  asters  and  balsams,  and 
leave  nice  little  patches  of  sorrel,  purs- 
lain,  and  pigweed. 

All  around  this  garden  they  had  a 
border  of  box,  like  a  little  hedge ;  and 
it  ran  across  the  middle,  so  as  to  divide 
Blanchie's  from  'Leedy's  part.  Some- 
times the  gardener  would  give  them 
a  gillyflower,  or  a  rose  in  full  bloom, 
from  the  greenhouse  ;  then  they 
would  dig  a  place  with  their  trowels^ 
and  sink  the  pot  in  the  earth,  till  it 
looked  as  if  it  had  grown  there  all 
summer  long. 

'Leedy's  garden  looked  very  much 
like  her  mother's ;  the  plants  grew  in 
pretty  bunches,  and  some  of  them 
were  fastened  up  with  neat  little 
frames   or   sticks.     She   had  one   tall 


blanchie's  garden.  47 

carnation,  with  bright  red  spicy- 
flowers  ;  from  this  she  picked  as  many 
as  twenty  blossoms  during  the  sum- 
mer; and  they  looked  beautifully  in 
vases,  or  in  the  bouquets  she  gave 
away. 

Then  Elise  had  some  delicate  little 
German  forget-me-nots,  with  flowers 
not  more  than  large  enough  to  make 
a  wreath  for  a  doll ;  and  she  had  even- 
ing primroses,  that  do  not  blossom 
until  almost  dark ;  and  then  the  buds 
burst  all  at  once,  and  they  look  like 
beautiful  great  white  butterflies  scat- 
tered over  the  garden. 

But  Blanche's  garden  was  a  funny 
place;  she  wanted  to  have  so  many 
difierent  things  in  it,  and  she  changed 
her  mind  so  many  times  in  the  day. 

There  was  a  bunch  of  millet  for  her 


48  blajnchie's  garden. 

canary  bird,  and  a  patch  of  chick- 
weed  ;  and  there  were  tall  blades  of 
corn,  which  Blanchie  was  fond  of 
parching  in  winter  time ;  and  a  great 
staring  sunflower,  for  Banty  and  the 
other  hens.  They  love  to  tear  out  the 
fat  ripe  seeds,  and  nothing  pleased 
Blanche  so  much  as  to  scatter  these 
handfuls,  and  watch  the  chickens 
scampering  here  and  there,  and  tread- 
ing on  each  other's  toes,  to  pick 
them  up. 

In  one  corner  she  had  a  hill  of  po- 
tatoes for  a  poor  old  man  who  used  to 
work  in  her  father  s  garden ;  he  had 
grown  too  old  and  sick  to  do  it  any 
more,  and  he  lived  all  alone  by  him- 
self, in  a  black  old  tumble-down 
house ;  his  name  was  Eli,  and  he 
loved  Blanche  dearly. 


blanchie's  garden.  49 

She  had  plenty  of  caraways,  be- 
cause she  liked  them  in  seed-cakes, 
and  thought  they  would  taste  better 
coming  out  of  her  own  garden.  There 
was  a  melon  vine,  too,  which  came  up 
of  itself ;  and  Blanche  was  on  the  point 
of  throwing  it  away  for  a  weed,  when 
the  gardener  told  her  to  wait  a  little 
while. 

It  kept  running  and  running  along 
the  ground,  and  had  beautiful  striped 
leaves ;  one  morning  she  found  a  bud, 
and  this  opened  into  a  handsome  flower, 
yellow  as  gold. 

Very  soon  the  flower  wilted,  and 
Blanche  was  so  disappointed  that  she 
wanted  again  to  pull  up  the  whole 
vine ;  but  the  gardener  kept  saying, 
"  Only  wait,  and  you'll  have  a  nice 
melon  yet." 
5 


50  blanchie's  garden. 

Surely  enougli,  there  came  one,  at 
first  as  large  as  a  nut ;  but  it  grew 
every  day ;  so  fast,  that  Blanche  used 
often  to  measure  it  with  her  apron,  and 
make  a  deep  crease  where  the  measure 
ended,  so  as  to  find  the  next  day  how 
much  larger  her  melon  had  become ; 
but  somehow,  when  the  next  day 
came,  the  crease  was  always  gone. 

She  tried  to  have  one  border  of 
flowers ;  and  in  a  corner  of  her  gar- 
den John  had  planted  some  candy- 
tuft, in  a  great  D,  because  that  stands 
for  Dora ;  but  she  had  not  many  be- 
sides her  rosebush  and  gillyflower. 

Sometimes,  when  Blanche  was  walk- 
ing home  from  school,  she  would  pick 
all  the  gay  flowers  she  could  find,  hur- 
ry down  to  her  garden  and  set  their 
stems  into  the  ground,  as  if  they  were 


blanchie's  garden.  51 

growing ;  but  of  course  these  quickly 
wilted  in  the  sun,  as  they  had  not 
any  roots ;  and  then  such  dismal  look- 
ing things  you  never  saw,  with  the 
brown,  faded  leaves  and  buds. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

BLANCHE    IN   THE    GREENHOUSE. 

LANCHE   was   very 
fond   of    flowers.     It 
^g-.,^,.„Ta^#  delighted  her  to  stay 
^^^^B^^S^  i^     the     greenhouse, 
^wandering  about 

wherever  the  gardener 
'  went,  watching  him 
^work,  and  asking  all 
kinds  of  questions 
:  about  all  kinds  of 
things. 
There  were  vines  trained  all  over 
the  glass,  and  hanging  from  these, 
great  bunches  of  white  and  purple 
grapes,  as  sweet  and  juicy  as  they 
could  be,  Blanche  knew,  for  she  had 

(52) 


BLANCHE    IN    THE    GREENHOUSE.      53 

often  eaten  them  ;  and  tlTere  were  light 
passion-flower  vines,  covered  with  ten- 
drils and  rich  purple  flo'wers  ;  and  ole- 
anders, looking  like  bunches  of  bright 
pink  roses ;  and  orange  trees,  full  of 
fragrant  blossoms,  and  ripe  yellow 
fruit. 

There  was  one  plant  which  she  ad- 
mired very  much,  it  was  so  curious  ;  if 
her  dress  brushed  it  as  she  ran  past, 
drops  of  honey  would  shake  out  from 
every  flower;  then  she  would  stand 
and  watch  till  another  drop  would 
come  creeping  into  each  nectary,  as 
bright  and  clear  as  dew;  this  had  a 
long  name,  that  Blanche  could  never 
remember ;  so  I  don't  think  there  i& 
any  use  in  telling  it  to  you  ;  it  is,  I 
believe,  one  kind  of  honeysuckle. 

Another  strange  thing  was  a  sensi 
5* 


54      BLANCHE    IN    THE    GREENHOUSE. 

tive  plant,  with  wide  branches  full  of 
delicate  little  leaves,  which  spread  out 
on  every  side,  as  if  they  enjoyed  the  sun- 
shine ;  but  whenever  any  one  touched 
the  branches,  these  leaves  would  close 
so  fast  together  you  could  hardly  pick 
them  apart  again  with  a  pin. 

The  gardener  was  growing  old,  and 
had  the  rheumatism  so  much  that  his 
back  had  become  stiff,  and  it  was 
hard  for  him  to  stoop  very  often ;  so 
Blanche  would  stand  beside  him,  and 
pick  up,  one  by  one,  the  tiny  flower 
pots,  when  he  was  transplanting  seeds 
or  cuttings. 

This  was  a  little  thing  for  her  to  do, 
but  a  great  help  to  him ;  and  Blanche 
was  such  a  loving  little  soul,  that  it 
was  pleasure  enough  for  her  to  make 
any  one  happy ;  she  did  not  ask  any 
other  reward. 


BLANCHE    IN    THE    GREENHOUSE.     55 

But  often  the  gardener  would  think 
how  kind  she  was  to  leave  her  play 
for  the  sake  of  pleasing  him  ;  so  he 
would  pick  her  whatever  she  wanted 
most  among  his  flowers. 

One  day  he  gave  her  the  largest, 
sweetest  bunch  of  grapes ;  he  made 
her  pick  off*  one  or  two  to  see  how  nice 
they  were,  so  ripe  you  could  see  every 
seed  through  the  clear  skin ;  then  he 
picked  some  beautiful  tea-roses,  and 
some  cunning  little  pink  monthly 
roses,  and  heliotropes,  and  pinks. 

Blanche  thought  she  had  never  seen 
a  prettier,  brighter  bouquet,  and  was 
going  home  to  ask  her  mother  if  she 
might  not  invite  Libby  and  Alice  to 
come  and  share  it  with  her. 

She  thought,  as  she  hurried  along 
the  garden  walk,  that  if  her  mother 


56      BLANCHE    IN    THE    GREENHOUSE. 

said  "yes,"  they  could  bring  their 
dolls,  have  a  kind  of  a  doll  party,  and 
spread  out  her  little  China  tea  set ;  and 
what  do  you  suppose  she  meant  to 
have  for  supper  ?  Grapes  and  caraway 
seeds ! 


CHAPTER  XII. 


OLD   ELI. 

ER  mother  stood  in 
the  doorway,  dressed 
for  a  walk:  Blanche 
showed  her  flowers, 
and  asked  eagerly  if 
she  might  do  as  she 
wished. 

Mrs.  Ellis  thought 
a  moment,  and  then 
said,  "  Perhaps  so.     I 

cannot  tell  yet.     Put  your  flowers  in 

water,  and  we  will  take  a  little  walk ; 

by  the  time  we  come  home  I  shall  have 

made  up  my  mind." 

telanche  was  always  delighted  to  go 

with  her  mother,  and  flew  away  to  do 

(57) 


58  OLD    ELI. 

as  she  was  bid ;  she  danced  down  the 
avenue,  opened  the  gate,  and  waited 
till  her  mother  came  ;  then  off  again, 
as  if  the  wind  were  blowing  her.  She 
ran  back  at  last,  with  her  hands  full 
of  ripe  blackberries  and  buttercups; 
but  Mrs.  Ellis  said,  — 

"We  are  going  to  see  a  poor  old 
sick  man  ;  don't  you  want  to  carry  them 
to  him  ]  " 

Blanche  was  delighted,  and  could 
hardly  wait  until  they  reached  Eli's 
door.  When  they  went  in,  she  waited 
until  her  mother  had  spoken,  then 
went  to  the  bed  side  with  her  flowers, 
and  poured  the  berries  out  of  her  little 
hand,  all  stained  with  their  juice,  into 
the  hand  of  the  sick  man  which  was 
pale  and  wrinkled,  and  almost  as  cold 
as  if  he  were  dead. 


OLD    ELI.  59 

He  thanked  her,  and  told  how  much 
he  loved  flowers,  and  how  often  he  had 
seen  her  digging  in  her  little  garden  ; 
then  he  put  the  berries,  one  by  one, 
into  his  mouth,  and  smacked  his  lips, 
told  how  sweet  they  were,  and  how  he 
could  almost  taste  the  sunshine  that 
had  ripened  them. 

Blanche  watched  him,  her  eyes 
sparkling  with  joy ;  then  she  whispered 
to  her  mother  a  moment,  the  door 
opened,  and  away  she  ran  towards 
home.  , 

Mrs.  Ellis  and  Eli  were  talking  to- 
gether so  busily  about  his  sickness, 
and  some  clothes  she  was  having  made 
for  him,  that  they  hardly  missed 
Blanche ;  until  the  latch  rattled,  kept 
rattling,  —  for  she  was  not  tall  enough 
to  open  it,  —  and  her  mother  arose  to 
let  her  in. 


60  OLD    ELI. 

She  was  out  of  breath,  she  had  run 
so  fast ;  her  cheeks  were  red  as  roses  ; 
and  her  curly  hair  was  flying  all  about 
the  brim  of  her  straw  hat ;  she  had, 
folded  up  in  the  very  leaves  the  gar- 
dener cut  for  her  to  take  them  home 
in,  her  bunch  of  grapes;  and  she 
had  brought  besides  all  her  flowers. 

You  never  saw  any  one  as  pleased 
as  old  Eli  when  she  gave  them  to  him  ; 
he  looked  at  each  of  the  flowers  sep- 
arately, and  held  up  both,  of  his  hands, 
and  even  the  tears  rolled  down  his  old, 
withered  cheeks. 

Blanche  asked  her  mother  what  he 
could  be  crying  about,  and  couldn't 
very  well  understand  why  a  person 
should  cry  because  he  was  happy. 

But  old  Eli  had  not  many  friends, 
and  was  so  poor  that  he  lived  on  the 


OLD    ELI.  61 

simplest  food.  There  was  nt  thing  in 
his  house  except  what  he  really  need- 
ed ;  crockery  cups  and  saucers,  and 
chairs  he  had  made  himself;  so  you 
may  judge  how  glad  he  was  of  ^^the 
flowers,  which  were  beautiful  enough 
to  ornament  a  palace,  and  the  deli- 
cious, juicy  grapes. 
6 


/ 


CHAPTER  Xin. 
BLANCHE    AND  THE    OLD    MAN. 

FTER  this  visit, 
Blanche  went  to  see 
>  Eli  almost  every  day ; 
and  he  grew  so  fond 
of  her  that  he  would 
listen  for  hours,  ex- 
Ipecting  her,  and, 
when  he  heard  those 
little  quick  footsteps 
approachin  g,  would 
hobble  over  to  open  the  door,  and  look 
so  pleased,  and  listen  so  eagerly  to  all 
the  little  girl  could  tell  him. 

Eli  had  made  a  nice  little  cricket 
on  purpose  for  Blanche;  had  stuffed 
and  covered  it  with  a  piece  of  bright, 

(62) 


\-^$t^ 


^^^^^ 


\ 


BLANCHE    AND    THE    OLD    MAN.       63 

blue  leather,  which  some  one  had 
given  him. 

So,  after  she  had  shown  him  the 
things  her  mother  had  sent,  and  the 
flowers  she  had  picked  up  on  the  way, 
she  would  sit  down  at  the  old  man's 
feet,  and  tell  him  about  her  pets  and 
her  garden,  and  all  about  things  in 
the  greenhouse,  and  her  studies  at 
school. 

If  Blanche  had  not  behaved  well, 
and  had  been  punished  at  home,  she 
always  told  Eli ;  because  he  was  sure 
to  be  sorry  for  her,  and  tell  her  not  to 
be  discouraged,  but  try  again,  and  see 
if  she  could  not  do  better. 

When  she  had  a  present  of  a  new 
book,  or  received  a  little  note  from 
aunt  Dora,  she  would  take  them  to 
him,  though  he  could  not  read  a  word. 


64      BLANCHE   AND    THE   OLD    MAN. 

Elise  would  read  the  note  to  her  until 
she  knew  it  by  heart,  so  she  could  tell 
every  thing  it  said;  and  there  was 
often  a  message  for  him ;  when  there 
was,  he  felt  so  pleased  that  he  made 
Blanche  say  it  over  two  or  three 
times. 

He  often  told  her  how  glad  she 
ought  to  be  that  she  could  go  to 
school,  and  learn  to  read  and  write, 
and  to  do  many  other  things. 

So  that  when  she  grew  old,  if  she 
should  be  poor,  and  obliged  to  live  all 
by  herself,  she  need  not  be  lonely,  but 
could  read  and  think. 

Sometimes  Blanche  and  EHse  would 
go  together  to  the  old  man's  house; 
and  while  she  was  playing  with  her 
doll,  her  older  sister  would  read  aloud, 
out  of  the  Bible,  or  one  of  their  own 
story  books. 


BLANCHE    AND    THE    OLD  MAN.        65 

Eli  liked  the  Bible  best;  but  he 
knew  that  the  stories  were  more  inter- 
esting to  them.  For  this  reason  he 
would  often  ask  for  one,  when  all  the 
while  he  was  longing  to  hear  the  good 
book,  which  told  about  the  beautiful 
heaven  that  would  very  soon  be  his 
home. 

You  see  by  this,  that  no  one  is  so 
weak  and  poor  but  he  can  give  up 
something,  and  do  something  to  make 
others  happy.  I  have  known  people 
who  were  strong  and  rich,  and  said 
they  would  like  to  make  every  one  as 
comfortable  as  themselves,  only  they 
didn't  know  how. 

The    trouble    was,   they  were    not 

willing,  like  Eli,  to  give  up  their  own 

wishes  for  the  sake  of  others. 
6# 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


THE   RAINY    DAY. 


'  OW  we  will  go  back 
to  the  day  when 
Blanche  and  Elise 
were  resting  under 
the  oak  in  the  church- 
yard ;  and  the  strange 
gentleman  they  liked 
so  much,  sat  down  on 
the  grass  to  talk  with 
them. 

Blanche,  as  I  told  you,  wandered 
about  the  house  all  the  rest  of  that 
afternoon;  wondering  if  it  would  be 
fair  to-morrow,  and  laying  plans  in 
case  she  should  see  Henry  again :  you 
may  judge  of  her  disappointment  when 

(66) 


THE    RAINY    DAY.  67 

she  awoke  the  next  morning,  and  found 
that  it  rained  fast. 

Her  mother  seemed  pleased ;  for  she 
said  it  was  pleasant  to  have  a  quiet, 
rainy  day  now  and  then :  one  could 
read  and  sew,  without  any  danger 
of  interruption.  She  was  cutting  out 
some  work,  and  Elise  was  seated  at 
her  desk,  to  write  a  long  letter  to 
aunt  Dora;  but  poor  Blanche  did  not 
feel  like  reading,  and  even  grew  tired 
of  her  dolls. 

She  went  from  window  to  window, 
and  could  only  see  heavy,  lead-colored 
clouds  in  the  sky,  and  her  bantam 
paddling  about  in  the  rain  ;  his 
smooth,  white  feathers  all  rough  and 
muddy.  She  thought  of  the  gardener 
working  among  his  beautiful  flowers, 
and  wished  she  had  wings  like  a  bird, 


68  THE    RAINY    DAY. 

that  she  might  fly  to  the  greenhouse, 
and  make  him  a  call. 

Then  she  thought  of  old  Eli,  how 
he  would  sit  alone  all  day,  with  his 
hands  folded ;  no  pleasant  sunshine  to 
brighten  up  his  little  room,  no  Elise  to 
read  to  him,  no  Blanche  to  tell  him 
stories.  She  felt  glad  that  'Leedy  had 
stopped  on  her  way  home,  the  day  be- 
fore, to  leave  him  some  of  the  flowers 
they  gathered  in  the  wood:  he  could 
look  at  their  delicate  leaves,  and  think 
of  the  good  God  who  is  willing  to 
take  so  much  pains  with  those  tiny 
things  ;  and  yet  who  loves  each  of  his 
children  better  than  a  great  many 
flowers. 

Then  Blanche  went  to  the  table 
where  her  mother  was  sitting,  and 
watched  her  measure,  and  pin  the  pat- 


THE    RAINY    DAY.  €9 

terns  down,  and  cut  out  the  cloth  for 
her  father's  shirts;  and  then  baste 
them  nicely  together,  and  make  each 
into  a  little  roll,  ready  for  the  seam- 
stress. 

On  the  table  lay  a  piece  of  cloth 
that  was  like  cotton  on  one  side,  but 
on  the  other  soft  and  warm  as  wool. 
This  was  cotton-flannel,  Mrs.  Ellis 
said,  and  made  very  comfortable 
clothes. 

"  How  I  do  wish  Eli  could  have  a 
shirt  from  it !  Why  won't  you  make 
him  one,  mother  1  "  asked  Blanche. 

"  I  cannot,  because  I  have  so  much 
work  to  do,"  answered  her  mother; 
"what  a  pity  it  is  that  the  old  man 
has  not  some  friend  who  has  plenty 
of  time,  and  is  willing  to  work  for 
him!" 


70  THE    RAINY   DAY. 

"  O,  I  have  time,  and  no  one  else 
can  be  more  willing,"  said  Blanche. 
"  Pray  let  me  try,  mother  —  you  shall 
see  how  nicely  I'll  sew !  " 

"  But  if  you  begin  it,  my  dear,  you 
must  finish  all  the  plain  sewing ;  and 
there  are  a  great  many  seams :  you 
must  promise  not  to  leave  one  of 
them." 

"  Not  a  single  one ;  only  let  me 
begin." 


CHAPTIE  XV. 

BLANCHE    AT    WORK. 

L  A  N  C  H  E  sewed 
away  bravely  for  half 
an  hour,  hardly  speak- 
ing a  word ;  then  she 
began  to  look  over  her 
work,  and  count  the 
seams,  and  wonder 
how  many  more  she 
must  do;  at  last  she 
laid  it  down,  and  went 
to  look  out  of  the  window. 

So  she  idled  away  a  whole  hour ;  but 
her  mother  said  nothing ;  for  she  knew 
that  little  girls,  who  are  not  accustomed 
to  work,  are  easily  tired  when  they  at- 

(71) 


72  BLANCHE    AT    WORK. 

tempt  it ;  and  she  was  willing  to  have 
Blanche  rest  a  while. 

But  when  she  came  back  to  stand  by 
the  table  again,  and  sigh,  and  wish  it 
wouldn't  rain,  and  that  she  had  some- 
thing to  amuse  her,  Mrs.  Ellis  asked 
if  she  had  finished  the  shirt. 

"  Why,  no,  indeed,  mother ;  and  I'm  . 
so  sick  of  the  old  thing,  I  do  wish  you 
had  never  cut  it  out.  My  thread 
tangled  and  kept  breaking,  and  my 
hands  grew  so  warm,  that  the  needles 
bent ;  and  see  this  spot  where  I  pricked 
my  finger,  and  it  bled ;  and  see  these 
great  gobbly  places.  O,  dear  ! "  and 
she  threw  it  down  again  impatiently. 
''  It  is  worse  even  than  my  dolls. 
I  thought  they  were  troublesome 
enough." 


BLANCHE    AT    WORK.  73 

"  But,  Blanchie,  your  dolls  do  not 
need  to  be  dressed :  they  are  just  as 
well  without  it;  for  they  are  only 
made  of  cloth  and  sawdust ;  they  do 
not  have  cold  hands  and  feet,  and  poor 
old  aching  bones,  like  Eli." 

"  No,  mother ;  and  after  I  have 
worked  for  them,  they  cannot  look 
pleased  about  it,  and  be  so  happy  that 
it  makes  me  happy  too,  as  poor  old  Eli 
does." 

Just  then  Elise  came  into  the  room; 
and  when  Blanche  told  her  what  she  was 
doing,  said  she  would  help  a  little  while. 
So  the  sisters  sat  near  together,  and 
the  way  their  needles  flew  !  They 
took  stints ;  and  though  'Leedy  always 
finished  first,  Blanche  did  not  care ; 
for  she  said  it  was  only  because  she 
was  younger  than  Elise. 
7 


74  BLANCHE    AT    WORK. 

Now  and  then  she  pricked  her  fin- 
ger, or  looked  up  with  a  sorrowful 
face,  because  a  knot  had  come  in  her 
thread ;  but  Elise  would  untangle  it, 
and  before  very  long  they  came  to  the 
end  of  the  last  seam. 

Blanchie's  little  hands  were  never 
so  cramped  before  —  the  fingers  fairly 
ached ;  and  she  wondered  if  Eli's  felt 
any  worse  when  he  had  the  rheuma- 
tism. 

Mrs.  Ellis  was  so  pleased  with  her 
children's  industry,  that  she  left  her 
own  work,  in  order  to  finish  off  the 
shirt;  so  that  Blanche  could  carry  it 
to  Eli  the  very  next  day. 

She  told  them  that,  if  the  old  man 
was  willing,  they  might  have  a  little 
party  at  his  house ;  might  take  their 
supper  in  a  basket,  and  invite  Minnie 


BLANCHE    AT    WORK. 


75 


and  Libby  to  go  with.  them.  They 
felt  sure  Eli  would  be  as  delighted  as 
they  were  themselves  with  the  plan, 
and  went  to  bed  thinking  that,  after 
all,  it  is  not  so  bad  to  have,  now  and 
then,  a  rainy  day. 


'g^r^ 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
ELI'S    PARTY. 

j  HE  next  morning, 
I  bright  and  early, 
:  Blanche  was  at  the 
window,  looking  up 
at  the  sky ;  which  was 
clear  and  blue  as 
though  there  had 
never  been  such  a 
[  thing  as  a  cloud. 
The  trees  all  shone 
in  the  sun,  their  leaves  were  washed 
so  clean  from  dust ;  aftd  the  grass  hung 
heavy  with  glittering  rain  drops. 

The  bantam  came  in  sight,  as  clean 
as  though  he  had  just  been  washed; 
he  clapped  his  wings  and  crowed,  at 

(76; 


ELI'S    PARTY.  77 

the  sight  of  Blanche.  Then  a  thrush, 
fluttered  out  from  a  bush,  and  flew  far, 
far  up  mto  the  sky ;  singing  so  charm- 
ingly, singing  the  same  notes  over  and 
over  again,  as  if  he  were  saying,  "  O,  I 
am  glad,  glad,  glad!  and  I  mean  to  tell 
it  till  the  air  is  full  of  my  joy,  and  every 
one  who  hears  it  will  be  glad  as  I !  " 

Blanche  wished  that  she  could  fill 
the  whole  world  with  music  and  glad- 
ness, once,  like  the  thrush ;  she 
thought,  "  At  least,  we  can  sing  to  old 
Eli  this  afternoon,  fill  his  little  room 
with  music,  and  make  him  feel  as  glad 
as  we." 

It  was  Wednesday,  and  school  would 
only  keep  half  a  day  ;  so  they  had 
plenty  of  time.  Elise  washed  the 
breakfast  cups,  so  that  Biddy  could 
make  them  some  cake;  and  Blanche 
7* 


78  ELl's    PARTY. 

ran  down  to  her  friend  the  gardener, 
and  told  him  her  mother  wished  for  a 
handsome  bouquet,  to  stand  in  the  cen- 
tre of  the  table. 

While  he  was  arranging  the  flowers, 
she  went  to  Eli's  house,  tapped  on  the 
window,  and  laughed  at  his  surprise 
because  she  came  so  early.  He  w^as 
very  much  pleased  at  the  thought  of 
their  visit,  and  that  was  all  Blanche 
could  wait  to  hear ;  but  the  old  man 
called  her  back  to  ask  if  he  could  in- 
vite one  friend  of  his  own. 

She  thought  it  would  be  very  funny 
if  he  could  not  ask  whom  he  chose  to 
his  own  house. 

Mrs.  Ellis  told  Blanche  that  if  she 
did  not  learn  her  lesson  well  that 
morning,  she  would  be  obliged  to  keep 
her  at  home   in    the   afternoon;   and 


ELI'S    PARTY.  79 

Blanche  studied  hard,  as  you  may  sup- 
pose ;  but  never  a  lesson  was  so  diffi- 
cult, she  thought;  the  letters  seemed 
to  change  into  cups  and  saucers,  and 
flowers,  and  dolls'  faces,  but  she  said 
every  word  correctly  at  last. 

I  cannot  tell  you  half  they  enjoyed 
in  their  party.  Mrs.  Ellis  was  not 
afraid  to  trust  her  children  with  Eli, 
she  knew  him  to  be  such  a  good  old 
man  ;  and  she  wanted  them,  besides, 
to  learn  that  the  best  and  easiest  way 
of  being  happy  ourselves,  is  to  make 
others  happy. 

They  played  games  —  Puss  in  the 
Corner,  Hunt  the  Slipper,  and  ever  so 
many  more  which  Eli  had  never  seen, 
and  which  amused  him  greatly.  He 
was  too  lame  to  run  about  with  them ; 
but  sat  in  his  great  chair,  and  watched 


80  ELI'S    PARTY. 

their  play  as  eagerly  as  though  he  were 
a  child  himself. 

He  asked  Elise  to  stand  up  on  a 
stool,  and  take  down  a  long,  black 
box,  which  lay  on  the  closet  shelf.  It 
was  covered  with  dust ;  for  Eli  said 
it  had  not  been  opened  for  ten  years  ; 
but  he  took  out  of  it  a  violin,  and 
after  a  little  tuning  and  scraping, 
began  to  play  all  kinds  of  merry 
tunes. 

Blanche  was  delighted:  she  thought 
this  music  better  than  the  thrush's 
song,  and  asked  him  why  he  had  never 
played  to  her  before. 

"  O,"  said  Eli,  "  I  had  forgotten  all 
about  my  violin,  and  was  too  sick  and 
low-spirited  to  play  if  I  had  remembered 
it ;  but  this  afternoon  I  feel  like  a 
young  man  again,  and  now  I  must  see 


Old  Eli  began  to  play  all  kinds  of  merry  tunes.— p.  80. 


ELI'S    PARTY.  81 

you  dauce.  Come!  here's  a  beauti- 
fuljig." 

But  the  children  told  him  that  they 
never  saw  a  jig  :  they  could  waltz  and 
dance  quadrilles,  which  were  as  new  to 
him  as-  the  jig  to  them.  So  he  played 
"  The  Campbells  are  coming,"  and 
other  old  tunes,  till  he  thought  they 
must  be  tired. 

Then  they  began  to  ask  him  about 
the  jig,  and  he  said  he  could  show 
them  better  how  it  went,  if  he  stood 
up  on  the  floor:  taking  his  cane,  —  for 
he  couldn't  stand  without  it,  —  Eli 
hopped  and  hobbled  about  so  droUy, 
that  his  company  laughed  outright; 
and  the  more  they  laughed  the  faster 
the  old  man  danced,  till  they  were 
afraid  that  so  much  exercise  would 
make  him  sick. 


82  ELI'S    PARTY. 

He  asked  them  to  sing,  and  they 
gathered  close  about  him,  and  began. 
You  would  have  thought  the  room 
was  full  of  thrushes,  their  voices  were 
so  fresh,  and  clear,  and  joyous.  They 
sang  a  great  many  little  songs,  and  Eli 
listened  with  tears  rolling  down  his 
cheeks  ;  for  he  said  it  made  him  think 
of  the  bright  heaven  which  is  full  of 
music;  and  where  he  would  grow  young 
again,  and  as  happy  as  they. 

Blanche  never  could  bear  to  see  any 
one  shed  tears,  even  if  they  cried  for 
joy ;  so  she  begged  the  others  not  to 
sing  any  more,  and  asked  Eli  to  tell 
them  one  of  his  nice  stories. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


THE    OLD    MAN  S    STORY. 


ID  I  ever  tell  you 
about  the  black  mon- 
key Jocko '? " 

"  O,  no,"  said 
Blanche,  "  and  we'll 
have  it  now;  for  I 
know  it's  a  good  story 
by  the  name.  Mon- 
keys do^  such  funny 
things !  " 
"  Well,  then,  when  I  was  a  boy,  I 

lived  with  your  grandfather  in  Boston ; 

he  had  a  house  upon  Fort  Hill,  and 

kept  a  great  many  servants. 

"  A   brother   of  mine,   who   was   a 

sailor,  brought  home  this  monkey  for 

(83) 


84  THE.  OLD    man's    STORY. 

a  present  to  me ;  I  thought  it  would 
please  the  children,  and  asked  your 
grandfather  if  I  might  take  it  to  the 
house.  Jock  was  a  beautiful  fellow, 
black  as  ink,  and  glossy,  and  looked 
so  clean  and  so  intelligent,  that  he  was 
quite  pleased  with  the  thought. 

"  So  we  had  a  carpenter  come  and 
build  a  little  house  in  the  yard;  and 
many  an  apple  and  piece  of  cake 
your  grandfather  brought  home  to 
him. 

"  He  wore^a  bright  brass  chain ;  for 
we  had  to  keep  him  tied,  he  was  so 
mischievous ;  and  even  then  he  was 
always  at  his  pranks. ,  The  sailors  had 
taught  him  to  fire  at  a  mark;  so  he 
would  pick  up  chips  and  bones  in  the* 
yard,  throw  them  upon  the  shed,  and 
then,  with  his  long  chain,  go  up  him- 


THE    OLD    man's    STORY.  85 

self,  and  sit  there,  throwing  these 
things  at  the  neighbors'  cats  and  hens. 
He  was  pretty  sure  to  hit  them;  and 
then  he  would  chuckle,  and  grin,  and 
show  his  white  teeth. 

"  Boston  was  not  as  thickly  settled 
then  as  now ;  and  almost  every  one  in 
our  neighborhood,  had  a  yard  and  gar- 
den ;  so,  many  kept  hens,  which  used 
to  travel  over  our  shed,  clucking  and 
crowing,  and  to  scratch  in  the  garden 
until  they  had  burrowed  up  all  our 
seeds,  and  trampled  over  the  linen  that 
the  girls  spread  out  to  bleach. 

"  But  we  did  not  have  much  trouble 
after  Jocko  came ;  they  would  cluck 
and  run  the  moment  they  caught  sight 
of  him.  The  neighbors  were  not  very 
fond  of  him,  though  they  could  not 
help  laughing  when  they  watched  his 


86  THE    OLD    man's    STORY. 

comical  ways.  He  would  wink  and 
beckon,  and  make  up  a  mouth  as  if 
he  wanted  to  kiss  them;  then  if  they 
came  near,  would  show  all  his  glisten- 
ing white  teeth,  and  scowl  as  if  he 
meant  to  eat  them  up. 

"  A  lady  who  lived  next  door  had  a 
beautiful  little  Maltese  cat,  which  was 
so  very  tame  and  gentle  that  she  loved 
it  almost  like  a  child.  One  day  we 
heard  a  mewing  out  in  the  yard ;  and 
then  Jocko,  chuckling  and  chattering ; 
so  I  peeped  out  between  the  blinds, 
and  found  he  had  caught  the  poor 
pussy,  and  dressed  her  up  in  his  own 
jacket  and  hat,  fastened  her  feet  to- 
gether, and  tied  her  upon  the  top  of 
one  of  the  tall  clothes  poles.  She  was 
struggling  and  crying,  but  could  not 
escape;    and  there  sat  Jock  grinning 


THE    OLD    man's    STORY.  87 

and  making  bows  to  her  !  I  took  her 
down  quickly,  you  may  be  sure,  and 
shut  Jock  up  a  whole  week  for  a 
punishment ;  but  what  do  you  think 
he  did,  the  first  time  w^e  let  him  out 
again]  We  heard  a  great  clucking, 
and  crowing,  and  flapping  of  wings, 
and  heard  Jock  whine  and  scold  as  he 
never  did  except  when  in  great  trouble, 
so  that  I  feared  some  one  was  killing 
him. 

"  I  ran  quickly,  and  found  your  un- 
cle, who  was  a  little  boy  then,  watch- 
ing and  laughing,  though  he  was 
frightened  himself. 

"  He  said  that  Jocko  had  caught  a 
white  bantam,  like  the  one  you  lost, 
Blanchie ;  had  run  upon  the  shed  with 
it,  and  sat  there,  holding  her  up  with 
both  hands;  looking  into  her  face,  pull- 


88  THE    OLD    man's    STORY. 

ing  out  a  feather  now  and  then  with 
his  teeth,  and  mimicking  her  when  the 
poor  frightened  thing  screamed. 

"•  But  her  mate,  the  little  rooster, 
heard  the  noise ;  and  when  he  found 
what  Jocko  was  about,  flew  upon  his 
head,  and  picked  the  monkey  until  he 
let  the  bantam  go. 

"  Poor  Jock  was  frightened,  and  in 
such  pain  that  he  rolled  over  and  over 
to  shake  the  rooster  off;  but  he  would 
not  go  until  he  had  given  such  a  claw- 
ing and  picking  as  Jocko  never  forgot  ; 
then  he  flew  over  the  fence,  and  stood 
crowing  on  the  other  side,  while  the 
monkey  sat  in  a  corner,  making  faces 
and  shaking  his  fist. 

"  After  that,  we  shortened  Jocko's 
chain ;  but  he  never  saw  a  hen  with- 
out putting  one  hand  to  his  head  —  as 


THE    OLD    man's    STORY.  89 

if  he  remembered  the  rooster  —  and 
making  up  a  face. 

"  The  drollest  part  of  the  story  is 
about  the  ghost  in  the  cellar,  and 
how  Jock  frightened  us  all." 

"  But,"  said  Blanchie,  "  mother  says 
we  must  never  listen  to  ghost  stories, 
because  they  are  not  true,  and  they 
only  make  us  afraid  of  the  dark; 
while  there  are  really  no  such  things 
as  ghosts. 

"  And  it's  just  what  I'm  telling  you 
this  for  —  to  show  how  foolish  it  is  to 
be  afraid ;  though  I  think  you  must 
be  tired  now." 

"  Suppose  we  have  the  rest  of  the 
story  after  tea,"  said  Elise ;  "  and  I 
will  set  the  table  directly." 

The  children  all  ran  for  their  bas- 
kets, and  Eli  watched  them  with  his 
8* 


90  THE    OLD    man's    STORY. 

face  all  over  smiles ;  for  I  don't  suppose 
there  had  been  as  many  good  things 
in  the  house,  since  his  wife  died,  ten 
long  years  before. 

There  were  pears,  and  peaches,  and 
grapes ;  and  there  were  cookies  in 
plenty,  and  new  milk,  sponge  cake  and 
gingerbread,  nice  little  cups  of  custard, 
and  fresh  bread  and  butter. 

Blanchie  had  forgotten  all  about 
her  flannel  shirt ;  and  when  she  drew 
it  from  the  basket,  and  Elise  told  him 
he  was  to  have  two  more  like  it,  and 
Minnie  gave  him  a  great  paper  of 
sugar  and  tea  which  her  mother  had 
sent,  and  Alice  half  a  dozen  glass 
tumblers ;  the  old  man  could  hardly 
believe  his  eyes.  He  was  especially 
pleased  with  the  tumblers,  because  he 
had  been  thinking  that  they  would  all 


THE    OLD    man's    STORY.  91 

have  to  drink  their  milk  from  one 
bowl ;  and  he  said,  too,  that  every 
thing  he  drank  would  taste  better,  after 
the  rim  of  his  glass  had  once  been 
sweetened  by  their  young  lips. 

So  the  tumblers  were  set  on  the 
table;  the  gardener's  bouquet  was  in 
one  of  them,  and  that  left  just  one 
apiece. 

Eli  did  not  wish  to  sit  at  the  table 
wdth  his  guests,  but  Elise  told  him 
that  it  would  not  be  polite  to  refuse ; 
so  they  rolled  his  chair  along,  and  ar- 
ranged themselves  on  each  side;  they 
relished  their  supper,  but  he  was  so 
happy  that  he  could  not  eat ;  and  con- 
tented himself  with  looking  at  the 
good  things,  and  at  the  children. 

After  they  had  finished  eating,  Elise 
set  all  the  things  away  in  the  closet; 


92  THE    OLD    man's    STORY. 

and  there  were  enough  left  to  last  Eli 
for  a  week.  Then  Blanche  reminded 
him  about  the  ghost  story,  and  he 
began. 


CHAPTER  XYIIL 


THE    GHOST     THAT    TURNED    TI^E    COFFEE 
MILL. 

/^^^^OUR  grandfather  had 
V'//  gone  to  pass  a  week 
in  New  York ;  and 
one  of  the  evenings 
Penny,  the  cook, 
rushed  into  the  par- 
lor, almost  frightened 
out  of  her  senses ; 
-for  she  said  there  was 
a  ghost  in  the  cellar 
—  the  ghost  of  a  man  named  Mur- 
phy. 

"  Your  grandmother  asked  her  what 
had  put  such  a  foolish  thought  in  her 
head.     '  O,'  said  Penny,  '  I  was  down 

(93) 


94    THE  GHOST  OF  THE  COFFEE  MILL. 

at  old  Mrs.  Murphy's  last  night,  and 
her  son,  a  miserable  fellow,  lay  there  at 
the  very  point  of  death  ;  he  was  afraid 
to  die,  as  he  well  might  be,  after  so 
many  sins ;  and  begged  me  to  forgive 
him  for  telling  wrong  stories  about  me 
once,  so  that  I  lost  my  place,  and  came 
near  being  sent  to  jail. 

"  '  I  knew  the  stories  had  been  told, 
but  never  knew  that  Murphy  was  the 
man  who  told  them ;  and  I  was  so 
angry  that  I  couldn't  say  I  would  for- 
give him :  he  need  not  have  been  so 
wicked. 

" '  Then  he  beganto  threaten,  and  said 
if  I  did  not  promise,  he  would  haunt 
me  all  the  rest  of  my  life ;  but  that 
only  made  me  more  angry ;  and  I  told 
him  he  might  and  welcome ;  that  I 
didn't  believe  in  ghosts  ;  and '  O, 


THE  GHOST  OF  THE  COFFEE  MILL.     95 

dear,'  screamed  Penny,  '  there  he  is 
again.     Don't  you  hear  him,  ma'am  1 ' 

"  There  was  a  strange  grating,  growl- 
ing sound  in  the  cellar ;  at  first  your 
grandmother  thought  it  might  be  the 
wind,  which  was  blowing  hard  that 
night ;  so  she  took  up  a  candle  and  told 
Penny  to  follow  her,  saying  they  would 
go  down,  and  find  where  the  trouble 
lay. 

"  But  Pen  began  to  cry,  and  cling 
to  your  grandmother,  and  say  that  she 
should  die  if  she  saw  him  ;  and  she 
felt  sure  it  was  Murphy's  ghost. 

"  '  Why,'  said  Mrs.  Ellis,  '  if  Mur- 
phy has  gone  among  the  wicked,  at 
you  think,  he  could  not  come  back 
again  if  he  tried  ever  so  hard ;  they  live 
so  far  below  this  world ;  and  then  they 
would  not  allow  him  to  escape ;  and 


96    THE  GHOST  OF  THE  COFFEE  MILL. 

if  he  is  forgiven,  and  has  gone  to  live 
among  the  angels,  they  are  so  good  and 
holy,  and  heaven  is  so  beautiful  a 
place,  that  he  would  not  leave  it  for 
the  sake  of  groping  about  in  our 
damp,  dark  cellar.' 

"  With  that  your  grandmother  opened 
the  cellar  door,  but  I  begged  her  to  let 
me  go  first ;  as  I  was  frightened  myself, 
and  if  harm  must  come  to  any  one,  I 
would  rather  it  should  come  to  me 
than  to  her ;  especially  as  I  had  been 
left  in  charge  of  the  house,  while  the 
other  servants  went  away. 

"  We  did  not  say  a  word ;  but  O,  how 
we  trembled !  at  least  I  did,  and  Penny, 
who  went  too,  because  she  was  afraid 
to  stay  alone  up  stairs. 

"  The  wind  blew  up  as  damp  as  if  it 
was  coming  out  of  a  tomb ;  and  just 


THE  GHOST  OF  THE  COFFEE  MILL.    97 

as  we  were  half  way  across  the  cellar, 
something  was  thrown  at  the  candle, 
and  blew  it  out.  Penny  said  that 
while  we  were  groping  back,  she  heard 
old  Murphy  laugh,  just  as  he  had  done 
the  night  before,  when  he  threatened  to 
haunt  her. 

"  We  were  no  sooner  up  stairs,  than 
the  noise  began  again ;  and  we  both 
begged  your  grandmother  to  go  and 
stay  with  one  of  the  neighbors,  while 
we  called  men  to  search  the  house ;  but 
she  only  laughed,  and  told  us  to  light 
the  tin  lantern,  and  if  we  were  so 
much  frightened,  she  would  go  alone. 

"  She  suspected  that  it  was  one  of  the 
other  servants,  or  some  mischievous  boy 
hidden  there,  trying  to  frighten  us  ; 
and  was  resolved  to  detect  and  have 
him  punished  if  possible. 
9 


9b      THE  GHOST  OF  THE  COFFEE  MILL. 

"  Still  the  naise  kept  grating,  growl- 
ing down  there  in  the  dark ;  and  now 
we  heard  another  noise,  as  if  the  ghost 
were  running  away  and  clanking  a 
chain  after  him.  We  looked  in  every 
corner,  and  there  was  nothing  visible  ; 
but  just  as  we  were  leaving  the  cellar, 
your  grandmother  turned  once  more, 
and  actually  saw  the  ghost ! 

"  He  had  a  chain,  truly  enough,  that 
clanked  and  clattered  after  him ;  and 
he  had  glistening  white  teeth,  went  on 
four  legs,  and  had  a  long,  black  tail. 
I  never  beheld  a  ghost  before ;  but 
we  all  saw  this  in  the  end. 

"  Quick  as  lightning,  when  our  backs 
were  turned,  he  leaped  from  his  hiding- 
place,  a  high  beam ;  flew  across  the  cel- 
lar, gave  a  turn  to  the  handle  of  the 
coffee   mill,    and  was    hurrying   back 


THE  GHOST  OF  THE  COFFEE  MILL.      99 

again,  when  he  caught  your  grand- 
mother's eye. 

"  Then  he  stopped  and  began  to 
whine ;  for  once  found  out,  he  knew 
very  well  that  he  would  be  punished. 
You  must  have  guessed,  by  this  time, 
that  the  name  of  the  ghost  was  not 
Murphy." 

"  O,  no  ;  it  was  Jocko,  I  am  sure  ! " 
exclaimed  Elise. 

''  Now,  Eli,  that  isn't  fair ! "  said 
Blanche.  "  I  thought  it  was  a  real 
live  ghost  you  were  telling  us  about." 

"Why,  dear  child,  has  not  your 
mother  said  that  there  are  no  such 
things  as  ghosts  to  be  seen '?  If  spirits 
come  back  to  this  world,  your  grand- 
mother told  us,  they  come  only  like 
thoughts ;  and  perhaps  while  we,  all 
trembling,  are  looking  about  for  their 


100      THE  GHOST  OF  THE  COFFEE  MILL. 

bodies,  they  themselves  stand  quietly 
inside  of  our  own  minds." 

"What  became  of  Penny T'  asked 
Alice. 

"  She  lived  with  Mrs.  Ellis  until 
she  became  an  old  woman ;  and  many 
a  laugh  we  had  about  the  black 
ghost  that  haunted  her.  She  felt  that 
it  was  a  punishment  she  deserved,  for 
not  being  willing  to  forgive  the  poor 
dying  sinner. 

"  After  that  time  she  never  laid  up 
anger  against  any  one  ;  and  you  may 
be  sure  she  never  believed  in  ghosts." 

The  old  man's  face  lighted  up  as  he 
spoke,  and  he  half  rose  from  his  chair. 
The  door  opened,  and  a  gentleman 
walked  in. 

He  was  surprised  to  see  Blanche, 
with  a  cry  of  joy,  spring  towards  the 


THE  GHOST  OF  THE  COFFEE  MILL.     101 

stranger,  —  it  was  no  other  than  our 
old  friend  Henry,  who  had  been  out 
of  town,  and  only  received  Eli's  invita- 
tion at  that  late  hour.  He  had  come 
directly,  wishing  at  least  to  tell  the 
children  how  sorry  he  felt  at  having 
lost  so  much  pleasure,  and  invite  them 
to  take  a  walk  with  him  on  the  next 
Wednesday  afternoon. 

Just  then  John,  the  man,  came  to 
announce  that  it  was  time  they  were 
at  home ;  and  all  bade  Eli  good  by, 
saying  they  never  passed  such  a  short 
and  pleasant  afternoon  before,  in  their 

lives. 

9* 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


THE    SILK    WORMS. 

^^^)7\  It  one    end    of    Mr. 

i Ellis's  garden,  was  a 
long  building,  used 
for  the  raising  of  silk; 
and  Blanche  spent  a 
great  deal  of  time  in 
wandering  about  the 
large  rooms,  watching 
the  men  and  women 
at  work,  and  the 
worms  and  millers. 

You  must  have  heard  that  all  the 
fine  silk,  satin,  and  velvet,  which  we 
see,  is  spun  at  first  by  little  worms  ;  is 
made  out  of  the  blanket  in  which  they 

(102) 


THE    SILK    WORMS. 


103 


fold  themselves,  when  they  leave  off 
eating  and  seem  to  die. 

But  I  thmk  you  cannot  know  as 
much  about  the  makmg  of  silk  as 
Blanche  did ;  because  not  many  chil- 
dren can  watch  the  process  with  their 
own  eyes.  I  will  tell  you  something 
about  it;  see  if  you  think  it  strange 
that  she  was  interested. 

In  the  summer,  soon  as  mulberry 
trees,  upon  which  the  worms  feed,  are 
in  leaf;  the  eggs,  which  are  not  larger, 
each  one,  than  the  head  of  a  small 
pin,  are  brought  from  the  ice  house  or 
cellar,  and  spread  upon  frames  in  a 
warm  room. 

These  eggs  are  glued  nicely  over 
sheets  of  paper,  by  the  millers  which 
lay  them;  and  they  are  light  brown 
or  lead  colored  at  first. 


104  THE    SILK    WORMS. 

But  when  they  begin  to  hatch,  you 
will  notice  them  turning  darker  and 
darker;  until  at  last  a  hole  is  eaten 
in  one  side,  and  a  little  shiny  black 
head  peeps  out ;  and  then  the  worm 
itself,  —  very  small,  as  you  may  know 
from  its  living  in  so  small  a  place.  It 
leaves  the  egg  fastened  to  the  paper 
still,  but  white  and  transparent. 

In  a  few  days  the  papers  are  cov- 
ered with  these  tiny  creatures  ;  if  you 
should  break  the  finest  needle  into 
five  or  six  pieces,  each  piece  would 
be  about  as  large  as  a  young  silk 
worm. 

The  youngest  and  tenderest  leaves 
of  the  mulberry  are  now  gathered, 
strown  over  the  frames,  and  are  soon 
covered  with  worms,  that  eat  off  the 
delicate   green    skin,    and    leave    the 


THE    SILK    WORMS.  105 

fibres,  —  which  are  tough,  I  suppose, 
to  their  small  mouths. 

These  creatures  spend  their  whole 
lives,  from  morning  till  night,  in  eat-' 
ing ;  of  course  they  grow  large  and 
fat;  so  that  soon,  instead  of  giving 
them  a  few  small  twigs  of  mul- 
berry, it  requires  several  men  to  go 
out  twice  a  day  with  shears  and  great 
baskets,  to  gather  branches  of  leaves. 

After  a  rain  or  heavy  dew,  each  of 
the  leaves  must  be  dried  with  a  towel ; 
as  the  worms  are  not  fond  of  water, 
and  it  makes  them  sick ;  this  is  very 
tedious  work. 

Have  you  ever  seen  a  mulberry 
tree  ]  It  is  quite  handsome ;  the 
leaves  are  of  a  glossy,  dark-green,  and 
it  grows  very  luxuriantly.  I  have, 
se^n   single   leaves   large    enough   to 


106  THE    SILK    WORMS. 

cover  the  seat  of  a  chair ;  and  it  has, 
besides,  juicy  berries,  which  look  like 
raspberries,  and  are  either  maroon  col- 
ored or  white.  Some  persons  eat  the 
mulberry,  but  it  is  very  sweet  and  in- 
sipid, so  that  one  soon  growls  tired  of 
it.  But  silk  worms  never  grow  tired 
of  eating  the  leaves ;  they  creep  over 
them,  chewing  and  chewing;  so  that 
when  you  enter  a  room  full  of  frames, 
covered  with  these  worms,  you  would 
think,  from  the  rustling  sound,  that  it 
was  raining  hard. 

How  would  you  like  to  lead  such 
a  life?  You  must  remember  that, 
greedy  as  they  seem,  the  worms  do  not 
eat  for  themselves,  as  I  shall  show  you 
presently  ;  they  give  back  more  than 
they  receive. 

I  know  a  great  many  people  who 


THE    SILK    WORMS.  107 

only  eat,  and  sleep,  and  amuse  them- 
selves, and  do  not  even  as  much  for 
others,  as  the  poor  worms  which  they 
despise. 

Perhaps  you  would  be  a  little  afraid 
to  walk  through  the  long  rooms,  as 
Blanche  used  to;  with  three  tiers  of 
frames  on  each  side,  and  each  frame 
full  of  large,  white  worms,  larger  than 
the  caterpillars  you  see  in  the  garden, 
and  without  fur  such  as  they  have. 

Blanche  was  too  much  accustomed 
to  them,  to  feel  afraid ;  she  seldom  went 
without  finding,  before  she  left  the 
room,  three  or  four  worms  upon  her 
dress,  crawling  over  her  neck,  or  on 
her  arm ;  but  she  would  only  laugh, 
stroke  their  soft  backs,  and  lay  them 
gently  upon  the  frames  again. 


108  THE    SILK    WORMS. 

She  loved  to  break  off  large,  fresh 
leaves,  and  lay  them  over  a  frame ;  in 
two  minutes,  the  worms  would  have 
crawled  upon  them,  eating  ravenously; 
she  thought  the  leaves  must  taste  as 
good  to  them,  as  candy  and  cake 
tasted  to  her. 

About  once  in  ten  days  the  worms 
moult;  that  is,  their  skin  has  grown 
too  small,  and  therefore  they  creep  out 
of  it,  with  the  new  one  which  has 
formed  underneath. 

While  shedding  this  skin  they  feel 
sick,  I  suppose ;  for  they  do  not  move 
about  much,  nor  eat;  but  fix  them- 
selves upon  some  stem,  and  stand  with 
their  heads  in  the  air,  in  the  drollest 
way,  looking  like  so  many  preachers ; 
the  dead  skin  wrinkles  about  their  head 


THE    SILK    WORMS. 


109 


and  makes  them  appear  very  old  and 
withered ;  but  when  it  is  once  cast  off, 
they  come  out  looking  fresh  and  hand- 
some, and  eating  enough  to  make  up 
for  lost  time. 
10 


2?^£S 


CHAPTER  XX. 
THE    LITTLE    COFFIN-MAKERS. 

^HEN  they  are  fully 
grown,  the  worms 
turn  away  from  food, 
and  creep  into  some 
dark  corner ;  creep 
under  the  leaves,  or 
behind  some  beam,  or 
under  the  table,  to 
spin  their  cocoons. 
Usually,  frames  cov- 
ered with  a  network  of  twine  are 
placed  near,  and  into  these  they 
crowd;  each  worm,  winding  himself 
about  with  threads  like  a  spider-web, 
crossing  from  one  side  of  the  frame, 
which  is  double,  shutting  like  a  back- 

(110) 


THE    LITTLE    COFFIN-MAKERS.        Ill 

gammon  board,  to  the  other ;  and  when 
he  has  them  strong  enough,  yon  will 
see  that  in  the  centre,  instead  of  car- 
rying his  threads  in  every  direction,  he 
begins  to  wind  them  in  a  circle  about 
himself. 

At  first,  this  circle  is  thin  and  al- 
most transparent  ;  so  that  you  can 
watch  his  head  turning  from  side  to 
side,  across  and  across,  working  as 
busily  as  he  used  to  eat.  At  length 
he  is  wholly  out  of  sight ;  but  still 
you  can  hear  him  moving  inside, 
where  he  works  on  until  he  has  spun 
out  all  his  silk,  and  used  up  all  his 
strength. 

If  you  should  cut  open  a  worm  just 
before  he  was  ready  to  make  his  co- 
coon, you  would  find  only  a  clear,  yel- 
low  liquid  or  gum;   and   this  is  the 


112        THE    LITTLE    COFFIN-MAKERS. 

beginning  of  our  elegant  velvets  and 
silks. 

The  worm  has  feelers,  with  which 
he  draws  out  several  threads  of  this 
gum,  which  hardens  the  instant  it 
meets  the  air,  and  becomes  silk. 
These  threads  he  twists  together  with 
his  feelers,  making  them  into  one ; 
which  even  then,  is  finer  than  a  hair  ; 
and  by  twining  them  into  a  ball,  he 
produces  the  thing  we  call  a  cocoon, 
—  which  is  nothing  more  than  his 
coffin. 

A  cocoon  is  about  as  large  as  a  wal- 
nut; is  light-yellow  or  white;  and 
looks  like  a  little  cotton  bag,  only  it 
has  no  opening. 

If  you  should  cut  open  a  cocoon, 
directly  after  it  is  finished,  you  would 
find  the  worm  all  shrivelled  up,  little 


THE    LITTLE    COFFIN-MAKERS.        113 

more  than  a  wrinkled  skin,  and  appar- 
ently dead. 

By  watching  this  from  day  to  day, 
you  woujd  find  it  grow  drier,  harder, 
and  darker,  until  it  was  like  a  shell 
of  brown — dark,  and  almost  as  hard  as 
a  chestnut  shell. 

But  touch  it  with  your  finger,  and 
you  will  find  it  moves  a  little  —  quiv- 
ers as  though  it  were  hurt.  It  has  no 
eyes,  no  mouth  or  feet,  is  only  a  roll 
with  s.trange-looking  marks  about  the 
head,  like  ears :  these  marks,  in  time, 
will  change  to  wings. 

To  go  back  to  the  cocoons :  when 
silk  is  to  be  made  from  them,  they  are 
taken  from  the  frames,  the  loose  silk 
torn  off,  and  then  gathered  into  bas^ 
kets.  At  Mr.  Ellis's  cocoonery  the 
10* 


114      THE    LITTLE    COFFIN    MAKERS. 

worms  often  made  heaps  of  these 
balls,  higher  than  Blanche's  head. 

They  are  then  baked  in  an  oven. 
This  destroys  the  chrysalis  inside,  which- 
is  the  brown  thing  I  have  described  to 
you,  —  all  that  is  left  of  the  worm ;  — 
then  they  are  thrown  into  hot  water, 
reeled,  and  woven  into  silk  fit  for 
dresses  after  it  has  been  dyed ;  or  else 
for  sewing  silk. 

But  if  the  cocoons  are  not  baked, 
and  a  few  are  usually  kept  for  eggs, 
you  will  find  that,  before  long,  one  end 
begins  to  grow  wet  and  look  dark ;  and 
then  you  will  see  two  little  feather-like 
feelers  come  out;  and  at  last  what 
went  in  a  great  worm,  will  creep  forth 
a  pure  white  miller  ! 

These  millers  do  not  eat  any  thing ; 
they  are  picked  off  from  the  cocoons, 


THE    LITTLE    COFFIN-MAKERS.        115 

and  placed  upon  sheets  of  clean  paper, 
which  tJiey  cover  all  over  with  the  tiny 
eggs  I  told  you  about  at  first ;  then 
they  fold  their  beautiful  white  wings 
and  die. 

Blanche  lives  in  America,  you  know, 
and  this  is  the  way  silk  worms  are 
raised  by  Americans ;  but  in  China 
and  other  warm  countries,  they  are  not 
all  kept  in  houses :  they  live  in  the 
open  air,  upon  trees,  like  our  cater- 
pillars, and  spin  their  cocoons  among 
the  boughs ;  though  the  finest  kinds  of 
silk  are  always  raised  under  shelter. 

When  you  look  at  your  own  silk 
gown  or  gay  bonnet  ribbon,  you  must 
think  of  the  poor  little  worms  which 
worked  so  hard,  and  even  died,  in  order 
that  you  might  be  finely  dressed. 

And  you  must  think  whether  you 


116        THE    LITTLE    COFFIN-MAKERS. 

ever  did  half  as  much  as  this  for  the 
comfort  and  happiness  of  others :  you 
would  not  want,  I  am  sure,  to  be  out- 
done by  a  mere  worm  ! 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

blanchie's  accident. 

HE  rooms  in  the  co- 
coonery were  made 
with  trap  doors  in  the 
[floor;  and  Mrs.  Ellis 
[  had  told  Blanche  that 
I  when  one  of  these 
I  had   been   left    open, 

I  she   must   e^o   to   an- 

I 
other   room ;    for    in 

playing   near   it,    she 

might  easily  fall  and  injure  herself. 

But   Blanche   had   never   seen    the 

worms     wind     their     cocoons  ;      and 

the   only  room   in   which    they   were 

beginning,  had  three  trap  doors  wide 

open.     She  thought  there  could  be  no 

(117) 


118         blanchie's  accident. 

harm  for  once ;  she  would  be  very  care- 
ful, and  only  remain  a  little  while ;  so 
she  walked  on  from  frame  to  frame, 
hardly  seeing  where  she  went,  until 
something  upon  her  neck  startled  her. 

She  knew  that  silk  worms  never 
bite,  but  this  took  hold  closely,  and 
moved  from  side  to  side  ;  then  she  felt 
threads  go  across,  and  all  at  once 
thought  it  might  be  a  spider. 

It  was  a  silk  worm,  which  had 
chosen  Blanchie's  white  n€ck  for  a 
frame,  and  was  beginning  to  make  his 
cocoon. 

The  little  girl  put  her  hand 
there,  felt  his  cold  back,  started,  and 
fell. 

She  did  not  know  any  more  until 
she  awoke  in  the  cellar  of  the  cocoon- 
ery ;  where  it  was  damp  and  cold,  and 


blanchie's  accident.  119 

filled  with  a  disagreeable  odor,  from 
the  withered  mulberry  leaves  and  dead 
worms. 

Only  a  little  light  came  in  through 
the  trap  door  above  ;  she  tried  to  call, 
but  was  so  frightened  and  so  faint  that 
she  could  not  speak  a  word.  She 
heard  John  saying  that  Mrs.  Ellis  had 
sent  him  for  Blanche ;  it  was  long  past 
her  school  hour;  but  she  could  not 
answer. 

Then  a  man  came  with  a  great  bas- 
ket of  dead  leaves,  which  he  began  to 
throw  through  the  trap  door.  Blanche 
thought  that  she  would  be  buried,  and 
never  see  her  mother  and  Elise  again. 
She  thought  how  poor  old  Eli  would 
miss  her ;  and  about  the  visit  to  Henry ; 
and  dear  aunt  Dora,  who  loved  her  so 
well. 


120        blanchie's  accident. 

The  man  had  stopped  for  some  pur- 
pose ;  he  came  again  with  the  leaves ; 
one  or  two  fell  upon  Blanchie's  face. 
She  thought  how  horrible  it  would  be 
to  have  the  door  shut,  and  be  left  there 
alive,  with  all  those  dead  worms,  and 
rats,  perhaps,  running  over  her. 

She  heard  John  say,  "It's  a  great 
load :  let  me  help  you  lift  it." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  man ;  "  but  it's  a 
deep  cellar ;  'twould  take  many  a  load 
like  this  to  fill  it  up :  only  look 
down." 

John  looked ;  saw  Blanche's  pale 
face  away  down  there  in  the  dark; 
and  in  another  second  had  jumped 
through  the  doorway,  and  stood  be- 
side her. 

She  was  very  cold,  and  her  eyes 
were  shut,  for  she  had  fainted  again. 


blanchie's  accident.         121 

John  thought  her  dead,  and  called  for 
the  man  to  open  the  outer  door  and  let 
him  bring  her  above. 

A  pitiful  sight  she  was,  when  he 
took  her  into  the  sunshine  again ;  her 
muslin  dress  was  torn  and  soiled ;  her 
hair  was  wet  with  blood ;  and  her  face 
as  white  as  marble. 

In  this  state  she  was  carried  home ; 
and  such  a  stir  and  fright  as  there  was 
in  the  house  in  consequence  ! 

Blanche,  though,  like  other  children, 
she  was  sometimes  disobedient,  was  yet 
a  very  gentle  and  loving  child,  and  had 
many  friends ;  all  of  whom  were  sur- 
prised and  shocked  when  they  heard 
the  news.  She  felt  her  mother's  tears 
falling  upon  her  face,  as  she  bent  over 
her  ;  and  she  heard  John  telling  Biddy 
how  he  found  her  in  the  cellar ;  then 
11 


122        blanchie's  accident. 

the  gardener  came  running  in  to  ^ee  if 
there  was  any  hope,  for  he  thought  the 
world  of  Blanche  ;  and  as  for  poor  old 
Eli,  they  dared  not  tell  him  :  his  heart 
would  have  broken  at  the  thought  of 
losing  his  pet. 

When,  at  last,  Blanche  could  speak, 
she  tried  to  ask  her  mother  to  forgive 
her  disobedience;  but  Mrs.  Ellis  told 
her  not  to  think  of  that,  she  had  suf- 
fered more  than  enough  for  punish- 
ment ;  and  the  good  mother  kissed 
her,  and  told  her  to  try  and  sleep. 

But  just  then  the  physician  came. 
He  bandaged  Blanchie's  head,  and  said 
that  the  wound  was  not  very  deep; 
but  one  of  her  legs  had  been  broken 
by  the  fall,  and  it  would  be  a  great 
while  before  she  could  run  about 
again. 


blanchie's  accident.         123 

The  little  girl  suffered  dreadfully 
while  the  limb  was  dressed ;  but  she 
did  not  complain,  for  though  no  one 
had  told  her  so,  she  knew  that  it  was 
all  her  own  fault;  and  it  made  her  feel 
even  worse,  to  see  all  about  her  so 
gentle  and  kind. 

Her  mother  staid  with  her  that 
night ;  and  though  she  still  suffered, 
it  was  beautiful  to  feel  those  tender 
arms  about  her,  and  know  that  she 
was  yet  to  live  on  earth  with  her  dear 
friends.  Before  morning  Blanche  feU 
into  a  quiet  sleep. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Blanche's  presents. 

T  was  very  hard,  in 
the  long  summer  days, 
to  be  shut  up  in  one 
?room;  and  not  even 
able  to  walk  across 
that.  Blanche  had 
i  never  kept  quiet  so 
long  before  since  she 
first  learned  to  walk. 
Som^timts  the  tears 
would  come  into  her  eyes,  when  Elise 
bid  her  good  by  before  going  to 
school ;  and  afterwards,  when  she 
watched  her  sister  skipping  along 
through    thes    unshine,  stopping  now 

(124) 


Blanche's  fresents.  125 

and  then,  to  pick  a  berry  or  flower,  or 
to  kiss  her  hand  to  Blanche. 

But  Blanchie  had  a  great  deal  to 
amuse  her ;  every  one  seemed  kind 
and  thoughtful,  never  tired  of  doing 
for  the  invalid.  The  truth  is,  that 
when  she  was  well,  Blanche  had  been 
kind  and  thoughtful,  never  tired  of 
doing  for  others ;  and  now  she  was  in 
trouble,  they  remembered  it. 

You  must  not  forget  this,  your  own 
turn  may  come  to  need  friends;  and 
if  you  have  none,  think  whether  it  is 
not  your  own  fault. 

'Leedy  seldom  came  from  school 
without  something  for  Blanche ;  the 
boys  wrote  her  little  pieces  of  poetry, 
or  at  least  rhymes,  and  sent  apples 
and  sugar-plums ;  and  the  girls  sent 
notes,  and  pretty  or  droll  pictures 
11* 


126  Blanche's  presents. 

which  they  had  drawn  upon  paper  ; 
even  the  teacher  wrote  her  a  note,  and 
sent  a  bunch  of  flowers. 

Then  the  gardener  came  every  morn- 
ing to  see  Blanche,  and  to  bring  her 
some  beautiful  flower,  or  a  rich  ripe 
peach  or  pear,  that  had  been  picked  off 
from  the  sunny  side  of  the  tree,  and 
was  all  yellow  and  rosy  without,  and 
honey-sweet  Avithin. 

And  John,  the  man,  would  knock 
at  her  door  to  say  that  old  Eli  had 
sent  his  love,  and  hoped  Miss  Blanche 
was  better  to-day,  and  asked  her  to 
accept  a  little  present  he  had  made. 

So  John  would  take  from  his  pocket 
a  set  of  garden  tools,  carved  from 
wood;  or  a  queer  little  man  or  dog> 
which  Eli  had  cut  with  his  penknife ; 
and  Blanche,  who  even  while  she  was 


Blanche's  presents.  127 

sick  and  suiFering,  remembered  that 
others  too  had  pains  and  wants,  would 
divide  her  fruits  and  flowers  with  the 
poor  old  man. 

When  John  went  to  carry  them,  she 
would  watch  from  the  window  until 
he  was  out  of  sight;  and  think  how 
pleased  Eli  would  be,  and  fancy  she 
could  see  him  holding  up  his  hands 
and  exclaiming  over  them  ;  and  her 
own  share  would  taste  better,  because 
she  had  been  generous;  for  every 
mouthful  she  ate,  Blanche  could  think 
Eli's  pear  or  peach  must  have  tasted 
just  so  juicy  and  sweet. 

Aunt  Dora  sent  a  beautiful  great 
doll,  with  two  or  three  sets  of  clothes, 
that  fastened  with  hooks  and  buttons, 
like  a  grown-up  person's ;  and  could  be 
as   easily   changed.      It   even    had    a 


128  Blanche's  presents. 

night  gown  and  night  cap  ;  and  it  had 
a  hood  and  cloak  for  every  day,  and  a 
bonnet  and  mantilla  for  great  occa- 
sions. 

Aunt  Dora  wrote  too,  almost  every 
day,  and  told  how  much  she  would 
like  to  be  with  her  little  niece;  and 
she  told  little  stories  about  the  farm, 
and  woods,  and  garden,  the  squirrels 
and  birds ;  and  about  the  chickens 
that  Blanche  had  seen  when  they  were 
tiny  things  just  hatched  from  the  egg, 
and  now  had  grown  to  great  hens  with 
chickens  of  their  own. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


WATCHING   THE    BIRDS. 


LANCHE'S  greatest 
amusement,  during 
her  lameness,  was  in 
sitting  by  the  window, 
and  watching  the 
thousand  little  things 
that  happen  out  of 
doors. 

The  window  of  her 
mother's  room  looked 
into  the  garden ;  and  an  elm  tree  grew 
near  the  house,  shading  it  from  the 
sun  ;  out  from  the  window  was  a  little 
balcony ;  and  when  the  day  was  warm 
and  clear,  Mr.  Ellis  would  lift  her 
into  this  pleasant,  shady  place,  where 

(129) 


130  WATCHING    THE    BIRDS. 

she  could  see  every  thing  that  went  on 
in  the  garden  and  avenue ;  and  could 
look  across  through  the  boughs  to 
where  the  mountains  rose  against  the 
sky,  and  the  beautiful  river  at  their 
foot  lay  shining  in  the  sun. 

She  would  watch  the  fat  robins  trot- 
ting along  the  path;  half  a  dozen 
young  ones,  with  speckled  breasts, 
trotting  after  them;  eating  whatever 
they  could  find,  and  making  clumsy 
attempts  to  fly ;  but  so  fat  that  they 
very  often  fell  fluttering  back  among 
the  bushes. 

A  honeysuckle  had  climbed  from 
the  bank  below,  and  twined  itself  all 
about  the  balcony ;  this  was  covered 
with  flowers ;  and  O,  such  beautiful 
little  humming-birds  as  came  whirring 
and  buzzing  about  it,  curling  their  feet 


WATCHING    THE    BIRDS.  131 

up  close  under  their  breasts,  and  hold- 
ing themselves  upon  the  flower  by 
their  long  bills;  their  bright  wings, 
blue  and  rose  color  or  green  and  gold, 
all  the  while  fluttering  restlessly. 
They  would  look  at  Blanche  with 
their  little  eyes,  but  did  not  seem 
afraid  of  her. 

On  the  farthest  corner  of  the  balco- 
ny, stood  a  large  cage,  and  within  it  a 
beautiful  bird,  which  Mr.  Ellis  had 
brought  from  South  America;  its  back 
and  wings  were  of  a  soft  lead  color, 
its  throat  and  breast  pure  white,  and 
its  head  and  the  ruffle  of  feathers 
around  the  neck,  the  most  brilliant 
scarlet. 

One  day,  as  Blanche  was  watching 
the  mowers,  how  at  every  swing  of 
their  bright  scythes,  the  grass  fell  to 


132  WATCHING    THE    BIRDS.' 

the  ground,  she  heard  a  singular 
noise ;  and  looking  towards  the  bird 
cage,  saw  what  amused  her  greatly. 

A  squirrel  upon  the  elm  had  caught 
sight  of  the  foreign  bird ;  and  not  rec- 
ognizing him  for  a  friend,  had  thought 
r  suppose,  that  he  would  have  a  quar- 
rel. 

So  he  stood  there  among  the  leaves, 
chattering,  and  showing  his  teeth,  his 
brown  eyes  sparkling  with  anger.  For 
three  or  four  minutes  he  kept  on  in 
this  way. 

Then  the  bird  began  his  answer; 
making  the  strangest  squeaking,  croak- 
ing sounds  Blanche  ever  heard;  the 
squirrel  interrupted  her  with  another 
piece  of  scolding,  and  then  they  both 
scolded  together ;  the  bird  edging 
along  on  the  roost  until  he  was  very 


WATCHING    THE    BIRDS.  133 

near  the  wires,  and  the  squirrel  darting 
to  the  very  end  of  the  bough. 

For  several  mornings  afterwards  the 
squirrel  came  again,  and  they  had  just 
such  another  talk;  what  it  was  all 
about  I  do  not  know,  but  it  was  droll 
enough  to  watch  them.  Blanche  wrote 
about  this  in  her  next  note  to-  aunt 
Dora,  who  said  she  never  heard  of 
such  a  thing ;  but  the  story  is  true. 

When  the  grass  was  mown  and  had 
lain  in  the  sun  drying  all  day,  the  men 
raked  it  into  heaps ;  and  Blanche  re- 
membered how,  the  summer  before,  she 
and  Elise,  with  their  friends,  Minnie 
and  Alice,  had  played  among  the  hay ; 
tumbling  it  about  till  they  had  scat- 
tered the  heaps  in  every  direction,  then 
bringing  it  back  in  their  arms,  —  for 
they  could  not  manage  the  long,  heavy 
12 


134  WATCHING    THE    BIRDS. 

rakes,  and  making  such  ragged  looking 
haycocks  that  her  father  laughed  and 
said  they  would  be  famous  farmers. 

When  the  warm  air  came,  scented 
with  that  fresh  sweet  odor  from  the 
grass,  the  poor  child  wished  that  she 
had  wings  to  fly ;  or  nimble  feet  like 
the  squirrel,  to  carry  her  there  on  the 
ground ;  but  instead,  she  must  sit 
quietly  with  folded  hands,  while  every 
body  and  every  thing  around  her 
seemed  to  move  about,  and  have  such 
a  pleasant  time. 

But  she  tried  to  be  patient ;  remem- 
bering that  though  the  sickness  was 
troublesome  to  herself,  it  also  gave  a 
great  deal  of  trouble  to  others ;  and 
that  the  accident  need  not  have  hap- 
pened, but  for  her  own  disobedience. 


CHAPTER  XXiy. 


THE    COCOONERY. 


F     Blanche     looked 
across,     beyond     the 
elm    tree   and  green- 
house,  down    to    the 
lend    of    the  garden; 
3she     could     see     the 
|cocoonery       winding 
laround    the  .  summit 
-'of  a  steep  hill. 

This  building  was 
so  large,  and  so  many  people  went  and 
came  from  it,  that  Mr.  Ellis  did  not 
wish  to  have  it  in  his  garden  any 
longer ;  and  hired  some  carpenters  to 
move  it  into  the  field  below. 

This  could  only  be  done  by  sliding 

(135) 


136  THE    COCOONERY. 

it  down  the  hill,  which  was  so  stee|) 
that  steps  had  been  built  in  it ;  and  any 
thing  less  accustomed  to  climbing  than 
a*  woodchuck  or  squirrel,  could  hardly 
have  gone  up  or  down  without  their 
help. 

The  men  sawed  the  cocoonery  into 
five  equal  parts ;  and  each  of  these 
was  as  large  perhaps,  as  the  house  in 
which  you  live;  so  you  will  not  be 
surprised  that  Blanche  was  interested 
in  watching  them,  as  they  tried  to 
move  it. 

A  part  at  a  time,  it  was  dragged  to 
the  brow  of  the  hill,  and  then  let 
down  by  ropes  and  chains.  She  ex- 
pected every  moment  to  see  some  part 
of  the  fastenings  break,  and  the  house 
go  tumbling  over  and  over ;  breaking 


THE    COCOONERY.  137 

down  trees,  and  killing  every  man  who 
stood  in  the  w^ay. 

But  the  first  part  reached  the 
ground  safely,  and  was  carried  to  its 
place;  and  then  another  and  another 
part  was  added  to  it,  until  the  whole 
long  building  stood  there  in  the  field. 

Yet  you  must  not  think  the  w^ork 
was  done  as  quickly  as  I  have  been 
telling  you.  There  were  ten  or  twenty 
men  at  work  for  weeks  ;  working  hard 
all  day,  and  yet  often  at  night  you 
could  not  see  that  the  house  had 
moved  an  inch. 

And  Elise,  who  went  down  almost 
every  day,  told  Blanche  that  the 
ground  was  broken  up  in  every  direc- 
tion; great  cart  tracks  went  through 
the  garden;  trees,  bushes  and  vines 
12* 


138  THE    COCOONERY. 

were  uprooted,  and  the  cellar  stood 
yawning  like  a  great  pit. 

Blanche  turned  pale  when  the  cellar 
was  spoken  of:  she  thought  that  but 
for  a  mere  accident,  she  might  be  there 
still,  buried  up  under  old  dead  leaves. 
Then  she  looked  about  in  the  pleasant 
balcony,  and  up  at  the  beautiful  sky ; 
and  thought  that  after  all,  she  had  a 
great  deal  left  to  make  her  happy  and 
grateful. 

One  day  there  came  up  a  thunder 
shower,  so  suddenly  that  John,  who  was 
at  work  in  the  garden,  had  only  time 
to  run  up  and  snatch  Blanchie's  chair 
and  the  bird  cage  into  the  house  ;  when 
it  poured  in  torrents,  beating  the  dusty 
earth,  and  gathering  in  little  rivers  on 
the  gravel  walk. 

He  placed  Blanche  by  a  side  win- 


,    THE    COCOONERY.  139 

dow,  where  she  could  no  longer  see  the 
garden,  and  for  this  she  was  sorry; 
but  he  had  run  to  close  other  windows, 
GO  she  would  not  call  him  back ;  but 
thought  she  would  find  what  could  be 
seen,  from  even  that  place. 

No  elm  branches  in  the  way,  so  as 
she  drew  the  curtain,  there  stood  the 
cocoonery  in  plain  sight ;  and  she 
knew  the  mountains  were  beyond  it, 
by  a  dark  shade  on  the  sky.  Such 
clouds  were  falling  to  meet  the  river, 
they  drowned  the  mountains  entirely, 
were  like  a  heavy  gray  curtain  drawn 
before  them. 

Then  there  came  heavy  peals  of 
thunder ;  and  birds  which  had  been 
surprised  away  from  their  nests,  flew 
about  in  a  frightened  manner,  as 
though    they  were    stunned    by   the 


140  THE    COCOONERY. 

noise,  and  by  the  sharp  quick  ffeshes 
of  lightning,  which  came  before  every 
peal. 

And  the  rain  poured  faster  and 
faster;  the  garden  walks  were  rivers 
now,  the  elm  and  willow  branches 
bent  till  they  almost  trailed  on  the 
ground,  with  the  heavy  pelting  of  the 
incessant  drops. 

Blanche  loved  to  see  it  rain,  it 
poured  so  merrily  down ;  and  washed 
every  little  twig  and  leaf  so  clean,  and 
filled  up  the  ponds  to  their  brim,  and 
sent  the  brooks  dancing  so  noisily 
through  the  meadows. 

And  then  the  sky  was  always  so 
clear  afterwards,  and  the  whole  earth 
so  quiet  and  fresh,  and  the  grass  and 
leaves  would  glitter  so  with  the  linger- 
ing drops ;  and  the  little  birds  would 


THE    COCOONERY.  141 

sing  as  if  they  rejoiced  together  over 
the  pleasant  change  which  had  conie. 

But  not  quite  yet.  Although  the 
rain  was  abating,  it  still  thundered  and 
lightened  fearfully ;  so  that  the  whole 
house  snook  with  the  sound,  and 
Blanche  was  almost  blinded  with  the 

light. 

She  was  thinking  that  so  much 
water  flooding  down  the  hill,  might 
wash  away  the  cocoonery,  heavy  as  it 
was  ;  when  she  saw  a  flash  dart  from 
the  sky,  run  in  a  zigzag  line  along  the 
roof,  and  crush  the  whole  building  in 
a  minute ;  as  easily  as  you  could  over- 
turn a  house  built  of  cards.  As  if 
blown  down  by  a  breath,  the  heavy 
beams  and  the  strongly-nailed  planks 
fell  level  with  the  ground. 

Mrs.  Ellis  had  entered  the  room  in 


142  THE    COCOONERY. 

just  time  enough  to  witness  the  fall ; 
and  she  told  Blanche  that  it  must 
teach  her  how  much  stronger  the  great 
God  is,  than  all  the  men  on  earth. 
For  weeks  and  weeks  the  carpenters 
had  been  toiling  to  lift  this  house, 
which  He,  by  one  little  arrow  of  light, 
had  shattered  in  an  instant. 

The  next  day  Elise  went  to  look  at 
the  ruins  ;  and  she  told  Blanche  that 
such  a  heap  of  boards  and  shingles 
and  broken  mortar,  all  crumbled  up 
together,  she  never  had  seen  before. 

Mr.  Ellis  said  he  should  sell  it  now, 
for  fire  wood;  and  promised  Blanche 
that  old  Eli  might  have  one  of  the 
largest  loads.  She  heard  from  the  old 
man  often,  at  first  through  her  friend 
Henry,  who  went  to  see  her  as  soon  as 
he  heard  of  her  accident ;  and  who  had 


THE    COCOONERY.  143 

given  up  the  promised  walk,  when  he 
found  that  she  could  not  make  one  of 
the  party. 

But  Henry  was  called  away  by  some 
business,  and  obliged  to  remain  for  sev- 
eral weeks  ;  and  the  gardener  had  one 
of  his  rheumatic  attacks ;  and  John  had 
so  much  to  do  in  the  greenhouse,  in 
consequence,  that  he  could  not  spare 
time  for  visiting.  Blanche  longed  to 
go  herself  and  find  how  her  friend  was 
prospering.  Every  chance  that  she 
had,  she  still  sent  him  fruit ;  and  her 
mantelpiece  was  covered  with  his  pres- 
ents, —  the  queer  little  wooden  toys. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 


THE    LAST    VISIT    TO    ELI. 


FEW  days  after 
the  thunder  storm, 
Blanche  heard  to 
her  great  joy,  that 
Henry  had  come 
ohome ;  Elise  had 
seen  him  in  the 
street ;  he  was  driv- 
ing, but  stopped  to 
inquire  after  Blanche. 
And  that  very  afternoon  came  a 
note,  inviting  both  the  sisters  to  liis 
house ;  asking  them  to  bring  their 
friends,  the  other  little  girls  he  had 
seen  in  the  churchyard. 

Mrs.  Ellis  said  that  Elise  should  go, 

(144 


TUE    LAST    VISIT   TO    ELI.  145 

because  the  gentleman  had  been  so  po- 
lite ;  but  she  felt  it  would  be  too  much 
trouble  for  him  to  have  Blanche,  who 
was  still  very  helpless ;  and  as  she 
could  not  play  about  with  the  other 
children,  might  need  too  much  atten- 
tion. 

Poor  Blanchie !  If*  there  was  a 
place  in  the  world  where  she  would 
have  delighted  to  go,  it  was  Henry's 
house ;  and  she  knew  he  would  ar- 
range so  many  things  for  their  amuse- 
ment, and  enjoy  their  plays  so  much 
himself,  it  was  very  hard  to  stay  at 
home. 

She  could  not  help  shedding  a  few 

tears  while  her  sister  was  dressing  for 

the  party ;  though  'Leedy  promised  to 

remember  every  thing  that  happened, 

13 


146  THE    LAST    VISIT    TO    ELI. 

and  tell  her  about  it ;  and  to  repeat 
every  story  that  was  told. 

This  was  not  like  seeing  and  hear- 
ing for  herself;  and  a  fev^  months  ear- 
lier, I  am  afraid  Blanche  would  have 
been  very  impatient  and  unwilling  to 
obey  her  mother ;  but  now  she  had 
been  sick  so  long,  that  she  had  learned 
to  give  up  many  pleasures. 

She  knew  by  her  mother's  constant 
tender  care,  how  much  she  loved  her  ; 
and  that  when  she  refused  any  request 
it  was  for  the  good  of  her  little  girl, 
and  not  for  her  own  pleasure. 

Blanche  tried  to  play  with  her  doll, 
but  the  tears  would  come  into  her  eyes 
and  fall  upon  the  dresses,  as  she  put 
them  on ;  so  she  took  up  some  bright- 
colored  worsted,  and  began  to  knit  a 
pair  of  wristlets  for  Eli. 


THE    LAST    VISIT   TO    ELI.  147 

She  was  working  away  quite  busily 
upon  these,  when  the  door  opened,  and 
who  should  come  in  but  Henry ! 

He  had  no  thought,  he  said,  of 
leaving  Blanche  out  of  his  party ;  and 
had  come  for  her  in  his  own  chaise, 
and  would  promise  to  take  the  best 
care  in  the  world  that  no  accident 
should  happen,  if  Mrs.  Ellis  would 
only  allow  her  to  go. 

Blanche  did  not  say  a  word,  but 
looked  up  in  her  mother's  face  so  wist- 
fully, and  she  had  been  so  good  and 
patient  about  staying  at  home;  and 
Henry  laughed  so  merrily  at  the 
thought  of  her  being  troublesome, 
that  the  mother  gave  her  consent. 

She  was  quickly  dressed  in  a  little 
clean  white  wrapper,  and  a  blue  ribbon 
round  her  waist;    then  Henry   lifted 


148  THE    LAST    VISIT    TO    ELI. 

her  in  his  own  arms  to  the  door,  where 
his  chaise  stood  ready ;  and  went  quite 
slowly  that  she  might  not  be  tired 
with  the  drive. 

Before  Blanche  guessed  what  he  was 
doing,  he  had  turned  into  the  lane 
which  led  to  Eli's  house,  and  stopped 
before  the  door. 

The  old  man  came  limping  out  into 
the  sunshine,  and  they  were  overjoyed 
to  see  each  other ;  he  looked  into 
Blanche's  pale,  but  happy  face,  and 
great  tears  rolled  over  his  own;  for 
you  know  Eli  was  very  apt  to  cry 
when  he  felt  happy. 

Henry  lifted  the  seat  of  his  chaise, 
and  drew  forth  a  paper  of  cookies  and 
some  mellow  pears  ;  he  laughed  as  he 
said,  "There,  you  see  Blanche  has 
not  come  without  bringing  you  some- 


THE    LAST    VISIT    TO    ELI.  149 

thing,  Eli ! "  but  she  leaned  forward 
to  whisper,  "  He  brought  them  him- 
self." 

As  the  chaise  turned  away,  she 
looked  out  to  see  the  old  man  as  he 
stood  there  in  the  sunshine,  with  the 
white  hair  blowing  about  his  forehead 
in  the  breeze ;  with  the  peaceful  smile 
and  the  poor,  tired  hands  folded 
quietly. 

She  always  remembered  him  with 
that  quiet,  peaceful  look  upon  his 
face  ;  for  she  never  saw  Eli  again.  The 
gardener  went  into  his  house  the  next 
morning,  and  he  lay  there  dead ;  be- 
side him  the  Bible,  which  he  loved  to 
keep  near,  although  he  could  not  read 
a  word ;  his  knife,  and  an  unfinished 
plaything,  which  he  had  been  making 
for  Blanche. 

13* 


150  THE  LAST    VISIT    TO    ELI. 

Eli  had  often  said  that  whenever 
God  was  willing  to  take  him  out  of 
his  poverty,  and  weakness,  and  igno- 
rance ;  out  of  the  earth  where  he  was 
onlv  a  trouble  to  himself  and  to  all 
his  friends,  he  should  be  grateful;  and 
so  glad,  that  Blanche  must  not  feel 
sorry  for  his  loss.  She  must  think  of 
the  beautiful  heaven,  where  he  had 
gone,  and  think  of  him  as  young 
again,  active  and  happy;  no  longer 
alone,  but  with  his  wife  and  children 
about  him. 

She  kept  the  unfinished  plaything 
and  wristlet  a  great  many  years  ;  and 
when  she  thought  of  Eli,  it  was  always 
pleasant  to  remember  that  she  did  all 
she  could,  to  make  him  comfortable 
while  he  lived  on  earth. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 


THE    FIRST    VISIT    TO    HENRY. 


ITTLE  thinking  of 
the  great  change 
!  which  would  come  to 
their  old  friend  so 
soon,  Henry  drove 
W;  they  soon  came 
within  sight  of  a 
pleasant  brown  house 
among  the  trees,  and 
here  he  stopped. 
Blanche  had  gone  past  the  place 
before,  and  hardly  knew  it  now,  it  was 
so  much  improved ;  trees  had  been 
planted,  fences  repaired,  the  house 
newly  painted,  piazzas  and  summer 
houses  built. 

(151)      * 


152     THE    FIRST    VISIT    TO    HENRY. 

Elise  and  the  other  children  ran 
out  to  meet  them.  The  pleasant  lady 
who  stood  at  the  door,  was,  Henry- 
said,  his  mother ;  she  seemed  as  glad 
to  see  them,  as  himself;  and  while  he 
had  driven  after  Blanche,  had  taken 
them  to  the  side  of  the  house,  where  a 
swing  was  fastened  into  the  branches 
of  a  great  elm  tree ;  there  they  were 
swinging  when  they  heard  the  sound 
of  wheels,  and  went  to  see  if  Blanche 
had  arrived. 

Henry  told  them  to  keep  on  their 
sun  bonnets,  for  he  had  no  thought  of 
shutting  them  up  in  the  house  that 
pleasant  afternoon ;  so  they  went  out 
into  the  grove,  with  which  they  were 
delighted,  because  it  was  so  much  like 
aunt  Dora's  woods. 

At   the   edge   of  this   grove   was  a 


THE    FIRST    YISIT    TO    HENRY.      153 

shady  place  on  the  lawn,  where  they 
could  have  all  kinds  of  games;  and 
there  was  a  white  tent  with  something 
inside,  —  they  could  not  tell  what,  be- 
cause the  curtains  were  all  down. 

Between  two  pine  trees  a  hammock 
was  swung.  Perhaps  you  have  never 
seen  one  of  these  beds;  instead  of 
standing  upon  legs,  like  those  in  our 
chambers,  they  hang  by  ropes  from 
the  wall,  or  from  branches  of  the  trees ; 
and  when  they  are  out  of  doors  they 
swing  with  a  pleasant  motion,  which 
lulls  any  one  to  sleep. 

Henry  wanted  Blanche  to  try  and 
see  how  she  liked  his  hammock ;  so 
he  lifted  her  into  it,  and  said  that  now 
she  was  like  a  little  bird  in  her  nest ; 
and  had  better  stay  there  and  rest 
a  while,  for  she  had  taken  a  long  ride, 


154      THE    FIRST    VISIT    TO    HENRY. 

and  was  not  strong  enough  yet  to  bear 
much  fatigue. 

She  was  willing  enough  to  stay,  and 
have  the  pine  boughs  rock  and  sing  to 
her  with  such  a  pleasant  sound ;  she 
lay  there  watching  the  children  play 
below,  and  looking  up  to  catch 
glimpses  of  the  sky,  which  now  and 
then  was  visible  through  the  deep 
green. 

She  saw  too,  flies  floating  about  in 
the  air;  and  wondered  why  they  'kept 
hovering  in  one  place,  and  did  not  go 
somewhere,  as  she  would  if  she  had 
wings ;  and  the  young  birds  in  a  nest 
kept  peeping  out  at  her,  and  calling 
to  their  mother,  who  came  very  soon, 
with  a  good  large  berry  in  her  mouth, 
whf.ch  she  divided  among  her  ravenous 


THE    FIRST    VISIT    TO    HENRY.      155 

children.  In  the  midst  of  this  watch- 
ing, Blanche  fell  fast  asleep. 

While  she  slept,  Henry  took  the 
other  girls  to  walk  about  his  grounds. 
It  was  too  far  for  Blanche  to  go,  and 
he  left  his  mother  seated  in  a  garden 
chair  with  her  work,  to  watch  and  be 
ready  to  call  them  when  she  awoke. 

They  went  to  the  barn,  which  was 
built,  if  you  ever  heard  of  such  a 
thing,  upon  tin  pans  ;  this  is  a  fashion 
which  some  country  farmers  have,  of 
keeping  the  rats  from  their  grain ; 
they  build  first  piles  of  stone,  four  or 
five  on  each  side  of  the  barn,  turn  a 
pan  upside  down  on  the  top  of  each 
pile,  and  above  all  this  raise  the 
building. 

If  the  rats  run  up  the  stones,  they 
-cannot  creep  over  the  slippery  sides  of 


156      THE    FIRST    VISIT    TO    HENRY. 

the  tin ;  and  have  to  seek  other  quar- 
ters. 

They  looked  every  where ;  into  the 
grain  chests,  and  harness  room,  and 
hay  loft ;  and  into  the  stalls  where  the 
horse  and  cow  stood,  the  latter  with  a 
calf  almost  as  large  as  herself. 

In  the  pigeon  house,  they  found 
some  of  the  prettiest  white  doves,  so 
tame  that  they  would  stand  upon  Hen- 
ry's finger,  and  peck  at  the  oats  in  his 
hand ;  some  had  fan  tails  and  strutted 
about  like  turkeys,  but  they  seemed  so 
vain,  that  it  spoiled  all  their  beauty. 

In  the  yard  stood  a  pair  of  oxen, 
beautiful  great  creatures,  as  sleek  and 
glossy  as  squirrels,  and  with  large,  soft 
eyes.  They  were  fastened  into  a  cart, 
and  Henry  told  the  girls  to  jump  in, 
he  would  give  them  a  ride;  so  they 


THE    FIRST    yiSIT    TO    HENRY.      157 

were  drawn  about  under  the  trees 
a  while,  anti  then  he  said  they  should 
see  his  ducks  and  geese. 

So  walking  beside  the  oxen,  "haw- 
ing" and  "geeing"  like  any  farmer, 
he  drove  on  through  a  path  where  the 
trees  almost  met  overhead ;  stopping 
sometimes  that  they  might  pick  the 
ripe  pears  from  the  trees,  for  the  cart 
lifted  them  so  high  that  they  could  do 
it  easily. 

Then  they  beheld  a  pond,  with 
willows  growing  about  it,  and  the 
ducks  and  geese  sailing  in  every  direc- 
tion. 

"  It  almost  makes  me  wish  that  I 
was  a  goose,"  said  Minnie,  upon  which 
Henry  went  to  a  little  house  among 
the  willows,  and  drew  forth  a  little 
painted  boat,  saying,  "  If  we  are  not 
14 


158      THE  FIRST    VISIT    TO    HENRY. 

geese,  we  can  have  a  sail  as  well  as 
they." 

So  he  rowed  them  to  the  other  side, 
and  the  sun  was  so  hot  that  they  did 
not  care  to  go  farther ;  then  called  for 
his  man  to  take  the  oxen  back,  and 
they  walked  home  through  the  gar- 
den. 

He  told  each  to  pick  a  bouquet  to 
carry  home  ;  and  went  about  with  his 
knife,  cutting  off  tough  and  thorny 
steins  which  they  could  not  manage. 
His  dog  had  followed  them  up  from 
the  boat;  it  was  a  large  Newfoundland, 
very  handsome  and  knowing ;  Henry . 
put  all  their  flowers  into  a  basket,  and 
the  dog  walked  quietly  beside  them, 
with  this  in  his  mouth. 

A  gentleman,  passing  through  the 
garden,  took  a  flower  from  the  basket^ 


THE    FIRST    VISIT    TO    HENRY.      159 

to  see  what  Prince  would  say;  he 
dropped  the  rest  in  an  instant,  seized 
the  gentleman's  coat,  and  would  not 
let  him  go,  until  he  had  given  up  the 
flower  again. 

When  they  reached  the  grove,  there 
lay  Blanche  still  fast  asleep ;  but  the 
sound  of  their  voices  soon  awoke  her, 
and  she  would  not  believe  that  her 
eyes  had  closed,  and  she  had  not  been 
all  the  while  watching  the  flies  and 
the  waving  boughs,  until  they  told 
her  how  far  they  had  been. 

There  were  seats  made  of  moss,  for 
the  other  girls  ;  and  there  was  a  little 
easy  chair  for  Blanche.  They  were 
hardly  seated,  when  Henry  opened  the 
curtains  of  the  tent ;  and  there  stood  a 
table  set  with  berries  and  cream,  ap- 
ples, pears,  nuts,  cake,  ice  cream,  and 


160      THE    FIRST    VISIT    TO    HENRY. 

more  good  things  than  I  can  remember 
now. 

He  said  that  Elise  and  he  should 
be  waiters,  and  the  rest  company ;  so 
they  passed  the  refreshments  upon  lit- 
tle trays;  and  after  they  had  eaten 
enough,  Henry's  mother  folded  a  paper 
of  cakes  for  each  to  carry  home. 

Then  they  sang  a  great  many  songs  ; 
and  Blanche  told  about  the  afternoon 
at  Eli's,  and  how  she  wished  he  were 
there  now  with  his  violin.  Upon  this, 
Henry  went  to  the  house  for  his  flute ; 
and  though  he  could  not  play  for  them 
to  dance,  he  could  accompany  their 
songs ;  his  mother  was  delighted  with 
the  music. 

While  singing,  they  arranged  the 
flowers,  and  made  each  other  wreaths 
of  oak   and  maple  leaves;    they   even 


THE*  FIRST    VISIT    TO    HENRY.     161 

dressed  up  the  old  lady's  cap  with 
sprays  of  the  tiny  partridge  vine,  and 
some  starry  little  white  flowers  they 
had  found  in  the  wood. 

It  was  so  long  since  Blanche  had 
gone  from  home,  that  every  thing 
looked  new  and  doubly  beautiful  to 
her  ;  the  trees  had  a  fresher  green,  the 
sky  a  clearer  blue,  the  flowers  grew 
nearer  together,  and  had  lovelier  tints ; 
and  the  birds  sang  louder  and  more 
joyously. 

She  only  wished  that  Eli  could  share 
the  pleasure  with  them ;  and  did  not 
know  how  soon  the  good  old  man  was 
going  to  a  home  where  there  are  clear- 
er skies  and  sweeter  music. 

But  through  the  trees,  they  could 
see  the  sun  sinking  lower  and  lower  in 
the  west;  and  as  they  went  towards 
14* 


162     THE    FIRST    VISIT    TO    HENRY. 

the  house,  they  saw  Mr.  Ellis's  car- 
riage, which  had  been  sent  for  Blanche, 
standing  at  the  door. 

Henry  told  the  rest  to  go  home  with 
the  man,  instead;  and  said  he  would 
take  Blanche  in  his  own  chaise,  which 
was  easiest.  They  were  soon  home, 
and  he  was  not  satisfied  until  he  had 
placed  Blanche  safely  in  her  chair,  by 
the  window  of  her  mother's  room. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


THE    NEW    MINISTER. 


LANCHE,  after  a 
while,  grew  able  to 
walk  about  the  house 
A  with  a  crutch;  and 
v\\Vyi  then  was  well  enough 
to  go  sometimes  to 
O  school  and  church. 
The  summer  was 
drawing  to  a  close, 
and  she  did  not  care 
how  soon  it  went;  for  she  longed  to 
have  another  come,  when  she  could 
walk  and  run  about  as  much  as  she 
chose. 

And  best  of  all,  in  the  autumn  aunt 
Dora  was  coming  to  make  her  mother 

(163> 


164  THE   NEW    MINISTER. 

a  visit;  and,  \vhen  she  came,  there 
were  always  good  times,  if  only  she 
wouldn't  marry  that  dreadful  minister ! 

Blanche  sat  thinking  about  this 
many  a  time.  Her  book  or  doll  would 
lie  unnoticed,  while  she  wondered  if 
something  might  not  happen  to  the 
minister;  if  the  cars  couldn't  run  oif 
from  the  track  and  kill  him ;  or  if  he 
could  not  die  in  his  bed  some  day,  like 
Eli,  and  leave  aunt  Dora  to  marry 
somebody  else. 

Cannot  you  think  whom  she  would 
have  chosen  ? 

It  was  wrong  in  her  to  have  such 
thoughts  about  the  poor  minister 
whom  she  had  never  seen ;  but  she 
loved  Henry  so  much,  and  thought 
him  the  only  person  in  the  world  half 
good  enough  for  her  dear  aunt  Dora, 


THE    NEW    MINISTER.  165 

And  then  it  would  be  so  pleasant  to 
spend  her  holiday  afternoons  with  them 
both ;  to  sail  herself  on  the  pond,  and 
play  with  the  doves,  and  look  at  the 
oxen  Elise  had  told  her  so  much  about. 
I  am  afraid  Blanche  was  a  little  selfish 
in  her  wish,  this  time. 

Aunt  Dora  came,  and  was  as  good 
and  beautiful  as  ever ;  and  as  ready  to 
give  up  her  own  wishes  and  plans  for 
the  sake  of  others.  Blanche  talked  a 
great  deal  about  Eli,  and  then  about 
Henry;  and  she  couldn't  help  telling 
aunt  Dora  how  she  did  wish  that  he 
could  marry  her,  instead  of  the  min- 
ister. 

Aunt  Dora  laughed  and  blushed,  and 
told  her  she  didn't  know  what  she  was 
talking  about ;  and  that  she  felt  very 
sure  the  minister  would  love  both  Elise 


J66  THE   NEW   MINISTER. 

and  Blanche,  because  they  were  so  dear 
to  her. 

The  next  morning  was  Sunday ;  and 
Blanche  wanted  so  much  to  go  to 
church  with  her  aunt,  that  Mrs.  Ellis 
consented.  They  went  early,  because 
they  were  obliged  to  walk  slowly ;  and 
as  the  bell  had  not  begun  to  ring  when 
they  reached  the  church,  they  strolled 
about  in  the  churchyard;  and  seated 
themselves  to  rest  under  the  oak  tree, 
where  Henry  had  made  a  settee  of 
branches  and  roots. 

As  Blanche  was  showing  it  to  aunt 
Dora,  and  talking  about  him,  who 
should  come  in  sight  but  Henry 
himself! 

He  shook  hands  with  them  cordial- 
ly ;  saying,  "  I  do  not  need  an  introduc- 


THE    NEW    MINISTER.  167 

tion  to  Blanchie's  aunt,  I  have  heard 
of  her  so  often." 

Blanche  looked  up  in  aunt  Dora'i? 
face,  and  saw  the  cheeks  grow  very 
red:  she  thought,  perhaps,  this  was 
because  she  remembered  their  conver- 
sation in  the  morning ;  and  while  they 
talked  together,  she  limped  along  to 
church. 

"Have  you  come  to  hear  the  new 
minister,  who  will  preach  for  the  first 
time  1  "  Blanche  asked,  at  which 
Henry  laughed,  and  aunt  Dora's  face 
grew  red  again. 

Blanche  understood  all  when,  as  the 
minister  arose  and  began  to  read  a 
hymn,  she  looked  up  and  beheld  Henry 
in  the  pulpit !  She  looked  at  aunt 
Dora,  and  at  Elise,  and  her  mother, 
and  longed  for  church  to  be  over,  that 


168  THE    NEW    MINISTER. 

she  might  hear  why  they  had  kept  the 
secret  so  long. 

Mrs.  Ellis  knev/,  from  the  first,  that 
Henry  and  aunt  Dora's  minister  were 
the  same ;  but  she  wanted  to  teach 
her  children  how  foolish  it  is  to  dis- 
like persons  before  one  has  ever  seen 
them. 

That  autumn  they  were  married; 
and  a  great  many  pleasant  visits,  a 
great  many  sails  and  drives  the  chil- 
dren had,  with  aunt  Dora  and  uncle 
Henry. 


THE   END. 


r^       W^-tvJLJ 


